History Repeats Itself
by Asha Dreamweaver
Summary: HP/BtVS. Harry Potter is called as the Vampire Slayer. His personality suffers radical changes as he copes with being an assasin of the undead. When a fight with a demon goes horribly wrong and he is hit by an unknown spell, he is sent back to the past -
1. The Stage Is Set

History Repeats Itself  
  
By Asha Dreamweaver  
  
Chapter 1: The stage is set  
  
Summary: Harry Potter is called as the Vampire Slayer. His new responsibilities, new powers and the fact that Voldemort is still intent on killing him lead him to change his whole outlook on life. His personality suffers radical changes as well as he copes with being an assassin of the undead. When a fight with a demon goes terribly wrong and Harry is hit by an unknown spell, he is sent back into the past - to the time when the Marauders still wreaked havoc on Hogwarts. Will he give into the temptation to change the past, thereby changing the future. What will happen when he falls for his future nemesis? SS/HP. PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.  
  
A lone figure casually leaned against the wall of an ornate tomb, impatiently scanned the old graveyard with all his senses on full alert. Black clothes helped him to blend into the shadows, until he was as much a part of the darkness as the unseen spirits that haunted the area. He glanced at his watch for the umpteenth time, trying to curb his annoyance at his friend. It really wasn't in his nature to lose his temper with his friends but in cases like these, he found it very hard not to. He cursed both himself and Wesley for agreeing to this little meeting. Why couldn't they just have met at the Bronze? He could almost sweat that the elder man had never heard of the old adage 'safety in numbers', which was predominantly true in this place.  
  
Wes was already late and was coming alone, not a very smart thing for a mortal to do in this particular town, no matter how much experience they had dealing with the things that went bump in the night. No, it was better by far to stay at home, cheerfully oblivious to the darkness that infected every square inch of land in, around and near Sunnydale. He stiffened/tensed imperceptivity as his sharp hearing caught the sound of footfalls - from two people. He reached for the stake in his jacket and pulled it out, craving the safety that the sharp stick of wood brought to his kind. He hoped that they weren't vampires; he really didn't want his watcher to have a run in with a nasty little bloodsucker. The guy had grown on him; it would be a pity for him to end up as one more statistic towards Sunnydale's extremely high mortality rate. Not forgetting the fact that if Wes was harmed, the offending demon would have hell to pay.  
  
There was a loud thud, followed by some extremely colourful cursing and a feminine giggle. Harry relaxed and pocketed the stake.  
  
"You have all the grace of a bull in a china shop Wes," he teased the older man, voice warm with amusement. His watcher picked himself up the ground, reluctantly accepting a helping hand from his companion, "Not all of us have supernatural abilities, you know," he retorted but the red tint to his face gave away his abject embarrassment.  
  
"True, but not all of us can wake the dead. Literally." Buffy chimed in, years of teasing Wesley providing her with a wide array of witty comebacks.  
  
"So Harry, you're still in one piece. That's usually a good sign. Since you're leaving soon, I thought I'd come with Wes to see you off."  
  
A genuine smile softened the stern look on his face, "I appreciate it B. Did you bring the books?"  
  
"Yes, they're in the bag with a shrinking charm placed on them." Wesley said as he handed the bag to Harry. "You'd best be careful. I doubt your teachers would be happy with your choice of reading material."  
  
"Definitely not. Plus Hermione would throw a fit, most likely after reading them all of course."  
  
"This is not funny Harry. If your identity as the slayer is revealed, it could put you and those around you in great danger."  
  
"'Fraid I got to back him up on this one Harry. Talking from experience, there will be a hell of a lot of things you won't be able to explain because they won't understand."  
  
"I wasn't planning on advertising it in the Daily Prophet. Like I need people to find out how 'different' I really am."  
  
"Yeah, that's a bummer. It sucks when they run in the other direction." Buffy agreed.  
  
Wesley drew himself up to his full height and tried to look imposing to the two slayers. Keyword; tried. "Now Harry, I hope I don't have to remind you of your responsibilities, your duty. If you have any problems you are to send word to me immediately and whatever you do don't let Voldemort find out! If the wizarding world found out about the Watchers' Council, it would be an unqualified disaster. I hope you have fun at Hogwarts and for God's sake, try not to get yourself killed!"  
  
The younger slayer's lips quirked upwards in a smile at the lecturing, "Will do. Good luck to both of you. You know where to find me if you need any help with the current Big Bad."  
  
"Goodbye Harry!" they chorused as he touched the portkey around his neck and said "Diagon Alley."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
People stared at him as he made his way through Diagon Alley and for once not because of his scar and not because of the late hour. He'd changed in appearance over the summer and he was betting that even Ron and Hermione wouldn't be able to recognise him at first. He had shot up in height, going from being the shortest boy in his year to five foot eight and growing. Unfortunately, he was most likely still shorter than Ron but at least it was a respectable height for a sixteen year old. He had gotten more muscular, though it didn't show like the guys in Sylvester Stallone movies. It tended to come with the whole slayer package. Speaking of being the slayer, thanks to him being called his eyesight had improved overnight and he no longer needed his glasses.  
  
It had been a huge shock for the Watchers' Council when they found out Harry Potter had been called as the next Vampire Slayer. His name meant nothing to them; no it was the fact that he was a boy that shocked them. It seemed that he had a talent for performing/doing things that were considered impossible. He was the first boy to be chosen. Ever. The watchers were still trying to figure out how it had come about. He was the first and only boy to be called as the Vampire Slayer. He chuckled darkly, he just had to be the first to do everything, didn't he?  
  
He didn't really like the Watchers, they reminded him too much of Cornelius Fudge and the Ministry, especially that prat Quentin Travers. He respected his own watcher, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce because he didn't follow the rules and he respected Buffy's watcher, Rupert Giles for the same reason. Also, Giles in 'Ripper' mode was damn scary. The man had some serious backbone. As for the rest, he considered them pompous idiots.  
  
He entered the Leaky Cauldron and gave a nod of greeting to Tom, the innkeeper? before heading to his room. He changed out of his clothes, which were now nearly all black - a side effect of having to stick to the shadows and skulk around in dark crypts and graveyards - and got ready for bed. Tomorrow the Hogwarts Express was leaving and he had to get to Kings Cross Station in time to catch it.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
After a solitary breakfast, he shrank his trunk and stuffed it in his pocket. He paid his bill and stepped into the back area that housed the entrance to Diagon Alley. He cast a subtle notice-me-not spell that would make people think of him as inconsequential and a disguising charm to mask his features and his famous scar. Tapping the bricks in quick succession, he watched the wall melt away and rearrange itself into an archway that he stepped through.  
  
The wizarding shopping area was as busy as usual; somewhat surprising considering it was nine o'clock in the morning. Passing the bright, well- populated stores that wouldn't have failed to hold his attention last year; he headed for Knockturn Alley, which in most peoples' opinions was Dark Magic central. Even the Quidditch store didn't slow him down.  
  
Knockturn Alley's reputation didn't bother him as much as it had before when he still saw things in black and white and completely ignored the grey areas in between. The grey area which he now inhabited [found himself in]. He purposefully entered Borgin and Burkes, bell clanging as he pushed open the door. The oily Mr Borgin slowly approached him, "Good day sir! Looking for anything special? We have just received some fine items..." he trailed off as Harry glared at him, clearly conveying that he didn't want to be bothered. The stooping shopkeeper abandoned his sickening charm and scurried behind the counter.  
  
Harry delved into the book stacks, grimacing at the thick layers of dust. As if he didn't have to put up with enough of the stuff in crypts... He searched for a good fifteen minutes, ending up with a stack of Dark Arts books to suit his needs. He brandished his wand and levitated the rather substantial stack over to the counter. Mr Borgin started adding up the total cost, not blinking an eye at some of the titles, well used to the type of things his clientele bought on a regular basis. Harry lazily examined his watch. Good, there was still plenty of time to get to the train station.  
  
He indifferently glanced around the cluttered shop and a flash of metal caught his eye. Wandering over to the source of the gleam, he found that it was a pair of intricately crafted silver blades. The hilts were in the form of serpents and they were inlayed with emeralds that represented the eyes of the snakes - the exact same shade as his own. He picked one up and studied it. It was a surprisingly perfect grip, as if it was made for him to hold. He couldn't explain his fascination with the weapons; they just seemed to call [out] to him. Slowly, as if underwater the snake moved, a silver tongue tasting the air and it seemed to hiss at Harry. "Massster..." He nearly dropped it in surprise and only his newfound skill in hiding his emotions ensured that he retained his composure.  
  
A shuffling sound to his left alerted him to danger and before he could register it, he had spun around, serpent blade raised and poised to strike. Mr Borgin stumbled backwards, "I didn't mean to startle you good sir. I must congratulate you on a fine choice of weapon. Will you be taking those as well?" Harry's eyes remained locked on the blade; he swore it had to be magical. "Yes, I will be." His free hand reached across and removed the matching knife from its stand. Something like an electrical shock skittered up his spine as he held them. He put them into the spare holsters strapped to his wrists. "How much?" "That will be 150 Galleons." Harry handed over the money and shrunk the books, placing them into his pocket.  
  
He paused at the exit to the shop, "Tell anyone that I was here Mr Borgin and I shall come back to rip you limb from limb. Is that understood?" The man's face paled, "O-of c-c-course. I n-never s-s-saw y-you," he stuttered. "Good."  
  
Harry stepped back out into the dingy alley and immediately disapparated.  
  
  
  
Reappearing in the men's toilets at Kings Cross, he checked himself over one more time before realising that he would have to remove the disguising spells on himself. Carefully scouting the area to see if there would be any witnesses to his little display. When he was satisfied that there was no people and no security cameras in sight he removed the spells. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and mentally compared the Harry Potter that had left Hogwarts last term with the Harry Potter now returning for his sixth year. Groaning, he realised that he was going to be pestered with questions until people got used to the changes in him, which would probably take a long time considering that it wasn't only his looks that had done an about turn, his personality had radically transformed as well. Some would say for the better and some would say for the worse but it was here to stay. The slayer couldn't afford to be naive and trusting if they wanted to live, which he did. Very much so.  
  
He left the bathrooms, walking at a steady pace so as not to attract undue attention. He was a half an hour early for the train so that he hopefully wouldn't run into any other Hogwarts students. Harry really didn't want to have to deal with the inevitable questions and stares. He'd had enough of that over the summer. Vanishing through the wall separating the muggles from platform nine and three quarters, he was pleased to see that he was one of the first people there. He boarded the Hogwarts Express and moved to the end of the train to find a suitably secluded carriage. Once he had found one to his liking, he cast a few subtle spells to make everyone walk right by it without noticing it or its inhabitants.  
  
He didn't want to be disturbed, especially not by people who acted as if they expected him to crack and attack them at any moment. Thanks to Minister Fudge, most people seemed to think he was on the verge of insanity. The rumours had gotten steadily worse during the course of his fifth year and his last encounter with Voldemort hadn't exactly helped his reputation. The Dark Lord had managed to infiltrate the castle and Harry had been forced into another duel for his life. The majority of the school had witnessed Harry using Dark Magic to stave off Voldemort's attack.  
  
Even though Voldemort had been driven back and had eventually fled, the general opinion was that Harry was a Dark Lord in training and something to be shunned. He'd been hurt, confused and angry and he still was. He wasn't evil, he had just realised the necessity of learning the Dark Arts when you were being hunted by the strongest and worst Dark Lord of all time. He'd soon found out that most people didn't see it that way. That bumbling idiot of a minister, Fudge had finally had to admit to Voldemort's return and of course, in true Fudge fashion, he had laid all the blame for the Dark Lord's revival and Cedric Diggory's death neatly at Harry's feet. The only good thing to come out of the exposure of his secret had been the grudging respect from the Slytherins. They seemed to have re-evaluated their view of him as Gryffindors' Golden Boy.  
  
The experience hadn't put him off the Dark Arts though and after he was called as the Slayer, he'd thrown himself into his studies with a vengeance. As well as with a dedication that put book-fanatic Hermione to shame.  
  
He was bitterly disappointed in Dumbledore and for him he felt a fury that not even his hate of Draco Malfoy could rival. The old wizard was keeping vital information from him that was for certain, using him like a pawn and he was sick to death of it. After many attempts to pry some facts out of the man, he had given up and decided to just go and research it himself. Preferably without the headmaster knowing.  
  
He pulled out 'The Standard Book of Spells Grade 6' and began to read it over, even though he had already memorised the material. Hedwig had already flown to Hogwarts so he needed something to occupy him during the ride to the castle and he really couldn't afford to be caught reading up on the Dark Arts. His reputation had suffered more than enough damage last term.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The train ride was reassuringly uneventful and his spells had ensured that he received no visitors. He could easily spot Ron's vibrant red hair, the Weasley trademark when he approached the horseless carriages. Not wanting to deal with his friend's anger at the moment, he hopped into the first available carriage which happened to contain some Hufflepuff second years who squeaked with fright when they recognised him. The ride to the carriage was spent ignoring the terrified and hate filled eyes of the Hufflepuffs. They never had acknowledged his innocence about the death of Cedric and continued to dredge up memories of the Triwizard Tournament that he'd rather forget thereby compounding the guilt he felt over the rival champion's death.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
He hurriedly made his way to the Great Hall, aware that Hermione and Ron were looking for him and dreading what he knew he would have to do. He strode to towards the Gryffindor table and saw that he was one of the last to arrive. There was an empty seat beside Ron and Hermione, which they had obviously kept for him but to their surprise, he didn't join them. Instead, he sat down at the end of the table, as far away from his friends as he could get. He tuned out [spaced out during] the Sorting and Dumbledore's annual start of term speech. And once the food appeared, he concentrated on eating, not looking up from his plate or contributing to the spirited conversation around him once. In truth, he was silent, not speaking even one word to anybody around him.  
  
About halfway through the feast, he felt a niggling sensation at the back of his neck and so he stretched out his senses, which quickly came to one conclusion. He was being watched. Discreetly looking around, he soon found the source of the stare and inwardly groaned. Professor Snape seemed to be glaring at him again, the same as every other year except this time it was disconcerting because he could actually feel it and it couldn't be ignored. The emotions swirling through his dark eyes were unreadable. It made him feel uncomfortable. The Potions Master suspected something, though Merlin knew what, which was so very very bad for the both of them. If Snape found out his secret not only would the professor end up as a demon's midnight snack but Fudge would be willing to use any excuse to further discredit Harry and get him thrown into Azkaban.  
  
Going to that hellhole would not be beneficial towards his already short life expectancy, especially if Fudge ordered the Dementor's Kiss, something the sadistic politician would enjoy doing no doubt. He shuddered to think about the effects Slayer's blood or worse; a Slayer's soul would have on the foul creatures. Since it seemed to have a strengthening effect on nearly every other demon on the planet, he really didn't want to find out what sort of a power boost the terrors of Azkaban would receive.  
  
  
  
Severus studied the young Gryffindor intensely from his place at the Head Table, the time should be about right and he should have been called. He was proved right when Potter walked into the Great Hall for the start of term feast. He moved with too much grace, had too much of a dangerous, watchful air to be anything but the slayer. Butterflies made his stomach queasy; it would happen soon if he remembered the dates correctly, which he was sure he did. It would be impossible for him to forget about that.  
  
He tried to concentrate on eating his food but his gaze kept being drawn back to Harry. It didn't take long before the boy noticed and began to covertly look around the hall. Eventually his eyes locked with Severus', annoyance visible in the green orbs but his face was blank. He quickly turned back to his plate and didn't look at the Potions Master again or at anybody. Harry obviously thought that Severus was plotting to get him expelled again.  
  
Severus, on the other hand felt a small amount of joy. He had avidly but covertly kept track of Harry's progress since he started Hogwarts. For the first four years, Severus had seen very little to show Harry was the Slytherin he knew him to be. Only after the Triwizard tournament had Harry started to become a force to be reckoned with and no one knew exactly how powerful the Boy-Who-Lived would become better than Severus Snape.  
  
He remembered the first year that Harry had come to Hogwarts. He had expected the powerful, confident wizard with the brilliant mind that he knew. Instead he had found an academically floundering, naive young boy who bore very little resemblance to the Harry Potter that existed now. He had been very disappointed and had taken his anger out on the boy in his treatment of him. The Potions Master had felt an inordinate amount of relief when Harry had begun to let go of his inhibitions and started harnessing the power that existed within him. Started to behave more and more like a Slytherin until he existed in no mans land - not feeling comfortable with the Gryffindors and unwelcome to the Slytherins.  
  
It would happen soon he knew and he both looked forward to it and dreaded it. It had been both the best time and the worst time of Severus' life but he had had nearly twenty years to mull it over. How would Harry take it when he got back? Would he be disgusted that it had ever happened? Would he want nothing to do with him? Severus didn't think he could handle it if that happened. He didn't think he could handle it if his one hope for the past two decades was quashed.  
  
Harry stood up and left the hall with his head down, not really paying attention to his surroundings. His slayer senses would make sure he didn't crash into anything, it wasn't as if he needed to look where he was going.  
  
A shout came from behind him, "Harry! Wait up mate!" Ron and Hermione ran up to him, "Harry! Why weren't you on the train?! It wasn't You-Know-who was it?" Hermione babbled at the same time that Ron said, "Why didn't you sit with us?! We saved you a seat and all!" One of his hands rubbed his temple slowly; he could feel a very big headache coming on.  
  
"Will you please be quiet?!" he snapped at them and they abruptly shut up. "I was on the train, no it wasn't Voldemort and I didn't want to sit with you!"  
  
Ron's face went an alarming shade of red that quickly turned into purple, "Harry, what is wrong with you?! First, you learn the Dark Arts without telling us, then you won't answer any of our letters all summer! We were worried sick! You wouldn't sit with us on the train or in the Great Hall because you didn't want to! Now you won't even talk to us! We're supposed to be your best friends!" he bellowed.  
  
"That is debatable." Harry answered. "What do you mean by that?!" Ron yelled. Hermione decided to add her two cents in and back up her boyfriend, "Harry, if you won't tell us what's going on, I don't know if we can still be your friends."  
  
Harry looked at the duo sadly, he really didn't want to lose their friendship but he had no choice. They would never understand the role of the slayer and remaining friends with them would only make them targets to his numerous enemies.  
  
He couldn't risk it so he said the damning words, "I don't have any friends. We are not friends, I don't even remotely like you let alone care about a mudblood and a weasel." He could see the hurt and shock mingling on their faces, swiftly tinged by anger but he continued, "Do leave me alone. I have no wish to have two losers harping on at me."  
  
Without a glance backwards he strode from the hall, leaving most present dumbfounded, save a few sharper people, who sensed something more behind the exchange.  
  
  
  
He went straight to Gryffindor Tower; he had a lot of work to do before the rest of his housemates came back from the feast. Stopping in front of the Fat Lady, he gave her the password, "Caritas." The portrait swung open and he clambered inside. He had never been more thankful that prefects got their own rooms, as then his dorm mates couldn't keep track of his comings and goings.  
  
He ran a hand through his unruly hair, spiking it up even more, trying to remember the words to the incantation. Raising his right hand, palm first, he stepped into the centre of the room. Runes painted themselves on the floor as he muttered a stream of rapid Latin. There was a golden flash and the runes disappeared. He stretched out his magic to see if the protective wards would hold, which they did. That should stop any busybodies from entering, namely Dumbledore, Hermione and Ron.  
  
Flopping down on the four-poster bed, he surveyed the room in slight disgust. It had been fine in his fifth year before he had started appreciating the darkness but now the bright shades of red and gold were revolting. He thought they were garish, dark colours being better matched to his tastes at the moment. After all, wearing horrendously bright and vivid clashing colours were not suited for fading into the crowd or into the shadows.  
  
He flicked his wand and everything changed from Gryffindor colours to muted shades of black and dark emerald green. Much better. He melted into the downy softness of the black duvet he was laying atop of. Full marks to the house elves; they sure knew their stuff.  
  
His mind drifted back to the incident in the Great Hall; no doubt it would be all over the school by tomorrow. It had hurt, like a hot poker through the heart but he'd dealt with it. Ron and Hermione just wouldn't fit into his new world, wouldn't understand it and he'd have been offended if they had pretended to. There was no understanding the shadows unless you spent a considerable amount of time in them. They'd all be better off breaking ties with each other, he wouldn't have to worry about them getting killed because of them and they wouldn't have anything getting in the way of a normal life.  
  
His eyelids drooped, being the slayer was a nocturnal job mostly and he'd gotten too used to sleeping during the day and hunting at night, much like the demons he killed. Deciding that it wouldn't hurt to let himself take a short nap before his patrols that night and the questions he was bound to be bombarded with that evening, he fell into a deep sleep, still on top of the bedcovers.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Harry's internal clock woke him up as the sun went down. He shucked off his robes and changed into his regular slaying gear - black leather pants, black polo neck, three quarter length black denim jacket and his own arsenal of weapons. He chose leather for his clothes because it didn't tear easily and gave him some protection from cuts and abrasions, especially when aided by a few judiciously applied strengthening and defensive spells.  
  
Fluidly, he jumps out the window, nimbly scaling the outside walls. His feet make no sound as he drops to the ground. The Hunt is on. 


	2. Fallen From Grace

History Repeats Itself by Asha Dreamweaver 

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

Authors Notes: This is my first fic and I have to give the utmost thanks to everyone who reviewed! You were so nice! Thank you! 

Some of you asked how Snape knows about the slayers and that will be revealed further down the plotline. Just bear with me! PLEASE REVIEW! IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME!

And now on with the story...

**Chapter 2: Fallen From Grace**

The moon is half full, its silver light illuminating the ground before him as he made his way to the Forbidden Forest. He made sure to keep to the shadows, flitting between them so as not to be seen. It wouldn't do to be caught at this early stage in the game. Harry skirted around Hagrid's hut, not wanting to wake up Fang. Once he disappeared under the eaves of the forest, he halted. His skin was crawling, the many denizens of the forest driving his senses crazy. 

The forest probably had its on fair share of vampires but he had bigger problems to deal with at the moment. They would have to wait. Giles had owled him with some disturbing news, apparently there was a new demon terrorising London. Also said demon was insane and had a rather nasty opinion towards Giles so the watcher had asked him to take care of it. Harry hadn't really minded, he might not have been the slayer for long but he had some serious magic on his side. Willow and Tara had taught him well in the art of Wicca and he'd found he had a considerable talent for it. Not to mention the fact that Giles had taught him advanced wand magic, dark and light. 

Giles had gone to school at Hogwarts as well, he'd been a Gryffindor but the Sorting Hat had also told him he was a borderline Ravenclaw. Not exactly surprising, considering the man's obsession with his books. Suffice it to say, that Giles had been a bit of a teenage tearaway and had discovered plenty about the darker aspects of Hogwarts castle. He'd let slip the fact that the anti-apparition wards were weakest in the Forbidden Forest due to the fact that nobody wanted to go in there to strengthen them. Harry was powerful enough to get passed the remainder and apparate out. It was his favourite method of travelling, since flooing made him sick and using a portkey brought back too many bad memories so he'd been extremely happy when Giles had shown him how to do it and not get caught by the Ministry.

According to the other man, few of the old pureblood wizarding families waited until their children turned eleven to teach them magic, especially the ones who delved in the Dark Arts. They had come up with several spells to mask their magical signatures so those idiots at the Ministry of Magic couldn't trace them. Harry had picked them up very quickly and hadn't looked back since.

So that was how he was able to apparate to London without the headmaster knowing. He reappeared in a dark alley near to a well-known demon haunt. Well-known to him anyway. He stalked through the doors, slamming them into the wall and causing all activity inside the bar to come to a screeching halt. Glaring at any demon who dared to take a step towards him, he strode over to the bar and folded his arms on the counter. "Where's Drusilla?" he snarled. The human behind the counter reminded him a bit too much of Willy the snitch back in Sunnydale so he didn't feel any remorse whatsoever about scaring the living daylights out of him. When several moments passed without an answer, he decided to try a different tactic. 

Lightning quick, he reached out and grabbed the bartender's collar, hauling him up, over and across the counter until he was staring directly into Harry's scowling face. "I'm going to ask once more and then I'm going to get testy. Where. Is. Drusilla?" 

The bartender decided that this new guy was not making an idle threat, "I don't know. She shows up sometimes but she doesn't make much sense! I swear I don't know where she is!" 

Seeing that he was useless, Harry dropped him onto the floor without warning and turned to face the rest of the occupants. "Now, I wonder if you guys have any information." It wasn't a request. Waving his hand, he wandlessly cast a spell to see if they had any idea where the crazy vamp was. He was in luck and one demon had known where she was staying. He debated whether to use a memory charm or not but eventually thought no. It would be better to have a reputation here for the next time he needed something. 

Without giving them a second glance, he walked back out through the doors. Dodging back into the alley, he disapparated.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He found her feeding on a young man outside a nightclub. The information that he had extracted from the demon told him that she had been on the payroll of some LA law firm but had gone on a little killing spree that had strained the relations between them. She had come to England after Angel had kicked her out of LA. Her victim was already dead from blood loss so no point trying to save him. Instead he stepped out in front of her, letting her sense his presence. 

She looked up from her meal, still in game face and with fresh blood dripping from her fangs. Her already distorted features smirked, "The kitten has come out to play!" she exclaimed gleefully, dropping the body onto the ground. 

Harry watched her warily; he had been warned of her madness and her visions. He knew she had hypnotised a slayer and killed her without mercy. Her insanity wasn't so much a hindrance as a help to her. He had cast a proximity spell to alert him to any attacks from behind so that he could concentrate on her. This was after all, the first Master vampire he had faced. Of course, sparring with Buffy had probably given him an advantage, considering how many elite vamps and demons she had killed.

He remained motionless as she stalked around him, circling him with unnatural delight. "The stars sing to me," she said, lilting voice taking on a childlike tone, "They say a slayer stands before me. A little lamb trying to be the big bad wolf." 

She lunged at him and he found himself trying to block a flurry of blows. He jumped up and got her in the head with a roundhouse kick, following it up with a punch to her unprotected jaw as her head snapped back. She gave as good as she got and a well-timed punch had him seeing stars from a moment. He jumped back to avoid her claw-like nails, definitely not wanting his throat slashed.

He whipped out a stake and threw it at her with unerring accuracy. Unfortunately for him, she moved out of the way and it embedded itself into her shoulder. She cried out, yellow eyes lit with fury. "Nasty little slayer!" she hissed, "I've seen you, locked in such a pretty dance, your screams making such lovely music..." she trailed off as he lashed out with a forceful kick, sending her reeling backwards. "Silly boy!" she growled, shoving him backwards, "You make the stars wail and the voices shriek! The kitten cannot hide forever! It doesn't have its claws yet!" 

"Stop calling me kitten!" he snarled, dropping low to the ground and kicking his legs out, sweeping her feet out from under her. Before she could recover, he slammed a stake through her heart. She looked down at it for a moment, shocked before turning to dust. 

He stood up, shaking the lingering dirt off his clothes. He had hardly understood a word she had said but she had still managed to annoy him. Kitten indeed! Still, it was an accomplishment, around one hundred and fifty years old; childe of Angelus, Scourge of Europe and her bloodline was that of the Order of Aurelius. His first master vamp, he had proved himself at last.

Even if Giles hadn't asked him to do it, he probably still would have gone after her. Giles and Buffy had done a lot for him, telling him about his calling, explaining it to him and training him. Plus there was the fact that they'd taken him from the Dursleys. That alone would have earned them his unwavering gratitude. 

Still, Buffy was the best. There was no denying it and his goal was to become as good as her. There was also the fact that he had Voldemort after him and every thing that he could do to make himself stronger he would do. It was a matter of survival.

Giles had refused to allow a watcher loyal to the Council train him and had instead contacted Wesley, who had been recently fired from Angel Investigations. Giles had then placed him on a plane to Sunnydale and the rest was history.

He glanced at his watch, three a.m. Lovely. That gave left him with less than five hours sleep. It looked like he'd need plenty of caffeine in the morning. He picked up the discarded stake, stuffed it in his pocket and apparated back to the Forbidden Forest. He used a secret passage to gain entrance to the castle and crept back to Gryffindor Tower. He summoned his Invisibility cloak from his room and pulled it over him. He whispered the password to the Fat Lady, who demanded to know who was there but let him in after a few seconds. 

He kept the cloak on until he slipped into his room. Taking out his wand, he placed several complicated locking and warding charms on the door. He shrugged out of his clothes, placing them back in his trunk and climbed into his bed, adjusting the covers and shutting the curtains. Placing his head on the soft pillow and snuggling into the duvet, he gave in to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Across the ocean, in LA, the newly soulless Angelus fell to his knees as Drusilla turned to dust several thousand miles away. When the stabbing pain had passed, he rose to his feet, near visible waves of rage pulsing off him. Someone had killed his childe, his masterpiece. That someone was going to die. Buffy was just going to have to wait.

~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning Hermione woke up early and crept into the sixth year boys' dorm. Ron was still staying there since he hadn't been made a prefect like Harry and Hermione had. Walking over to his bed on tiptoes, she cast a silencing charm and then opened the curtains, hoping to God that he was dressed. He was tangled up in the blankets, gangly arms and legs spread out across the bed. Reaching down, she firmly shook his shoulder, "Ron! Wake up!" He didn't stir. She repeated her actions but he only mumbled something indecipherable and rolled over. Sighing in frustration, she did the only thing that could guarantee Ron would wake up some time in the next decade. "Ronald Weasley!" she exclaimed in her best Molly Weasley impression, "How dare you get expelled! When I get my hands on you..." 

Ron sat up in abrupt shock, "What?! Mum?!" he yelled, still half-asleep, making Hermione grateful that she'd used a silencing charm. 

"No Ron," she said calmly, a faint hint of amusement colouring her voice, "I just came to wake you up."

"Wake me up?! It's only seven o' clock! Are you mad woman?!" 

"Ron, listen to me. We need to see Professor Dumbledore this morning." 

"Dumbledore?"

"Something's wrong with Harry. I think You-Know-Who did something to him. The headmaster needs to know!"

Ron's temper flared as he thought of Harry's treatment of them, "You're right 'Mione." His face reddened and he looked away, "Um, could you go away while I get dressed?" he asked.

Hermione blinked, taken aback, and then realised that he was only wearing pyjama bottoms. "Oh! Of course! I'll wait for you in the common room!"

She was gazing into the ever-blazing fire when he came down, chin propped up by her hand. "Mione?" he called, "Are you alright?" 

She turned to look at him, sparing him a small smile, "Yes, I just don't know what to think about Harry anymore. He's acting worse than Malfoy!" 

He crossed over to her, placed a hand on her shoulder, "I know Mione, but Dumbledore will fix whatever's wrong with him and everything will go back to normal."

"I hope you're right Ron." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They stood in front of the stone gargoyle for ten minutes, trying to guess the password before it opened. Dashing up the moving stairs, they knocked on the door to the headmaster's office and were relieved when a voice called, "Enter!"

As always, they were fascinated by the many interesting and strange objects that lay scattered around the room. On his perch, Fawkes looked at them and then returned to preening at his new feathers. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, dressed in vibrant robes as usual and blue eyes sparkling with their customary twinkle. "Well, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, what can I do for you?" He gestured for them to sit down and they complied, sliding nervously into the chairs.

"It's about Harry Professor," Hermione blurted out, "He's acting like a completely different person. He actually called me a Mudblood!"

Ron hurried to back her up, "It's true Professor, he insulted me as well. He blew us off yesterday after the feast and made it clear he wasn't our friend anymore, called us a bunch of losers and all!"

"Could it be You-Know-Who Professor? A spell of some sort? Harry's never ever acted this way before."

Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, folding his hands on his lap and looking at them very seriously over his half-moon glasses. "This is most disturbing. You say he's changed? How so?"

"Well Professor," Hermione began, "His looks for one. Before he never used to care and now he dresses like a male model. The Dursleys would never allow him to wear stuff like that! And..." 

"An interest in fashion is generally normal for teenagers Miss Granger," Dumbledore interrupted, "Surely you do not take offence over that!"

"But that's not all Professor!" she cried, leaning forward in her chair, "He started learning the Dark Arts last year and he never told us! He never replied to any of the owls we sent him and he refused to come to the Burrow over the summer! He doesn't want to talk to anyone, he just wants to spend all of his time on his own and he didn't look for us on the train or on the platform, plus he didn't sit with us at the feast even though we had kept him a seat! _And_ he started insulting us just because we were concerned about him! He's acting worse than Malfoy!"

"I see. Anything more to add Mr Weasley?" 

"No Professor, just what 'Mione said."

"Thank you for informing me of this. I shall keep an eye on him and see if anything needs to be done. In the meantime, maybe you should try and talk to him again. It may have just been a mood swing or something of the like."

"Thank you Headmaster," they chorused as they stood up, "I'm just so worried." 

"I'm sure things will return to normal soon Miss Granger. I expect he'll apologise for his hurtful remarks once he's calmed down." They both felt some relief at that, if _Dumbledore_ said it would be alright then it would be.

He ushered them outside of his office and shut the door behind them. Reclaiming his seat, he steepled his hands together, thinking about this new problem. Harry Potter would become a force to be reckoned with. It was a fact. Still, the changes that the boy's friends spoke about worried him. The boy was already too similar to Tom Riddle for his liking, he couldn't allow him to cross to Voldemort's side or any side but his own. He had spent years cultivating the boy, making sure that he was loyal to him and now it seemed that his careful manipulations were being undone. Worrying, but it could still be fixed. But if the boy found out what he hid from him... the consequences would be disastrous. If worst came to worst, then the threat would just have to be eliminated. Potter would not be allowed to mess with his plans, and he was too powerful to let loose. 

There was still time though, maybe Sirius could help? He would contact him and see if the boy had told him anything. But as for now, it was time for breakfast and as headmaster, he had to make an appearance. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry awoke to the shrill sound of his enchanted alarm clock. Reaching out a hand, he batted it into the wall but it kept on shrieking. Sitting up, he raised his wand and cursed the thing into oblivion. Tossing back the covers, he staggered out of bed and immediately conjured up a cup of coffee. As he sipped at the warm liquid, he mentally thanked whoever had discovered the merits of caffeine. It was an essential part of his diet, incredibly useful after so many late nights. Even with a slayer's constitution, he did get tired. 

Sadly for him, it wasn't served at any of the house tables, being reserved for the teachers at the head table. So he had to get his fix of it before he went down for breakfast. Banishing the empty cup, he pulled some robes out of his trunk and yanked them over his head. He didn't bother to wear the proper school uniform underneath the heavy material, instead opting for his standard black polo neck and black jeans. He dared them to try and reprimand him over it. He put on the shiny silver prefect badge reluctantly; hating it but appreciating the authoritive power it gave him. 

Making sure that he had his wand and that his weapons were safely hidden on various parts of his person, he strolled into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he was infinitely grateful that he'd gotten rid of his glasses and his old haircut. Before his hair would have sticking up all over the place, resembling someone who had been electrocuted but now it was shorter and spiked up towards the front. His liquid green eyes were no longer hidden behind his NHS style frames and now were one of his most prominent features. They were slightly slanted, brightly glittering with a calculating sheen. Those eyes had stared down quite a few vamps. 

A year or two ago, he would have been horrified to compare himself to Tom Riddle but now he couldn't deny the resemblance. Especially with his new bad boy attitude. Then again, the similarities had to stop somewhere and there was no way in hell that Harry wanted to look like a snake. Voldemort was welcome to his new looks, not that anyone else would actually want them.

He wondered if Voldemort would try anything again this year. He had a feeling that his new calling would come as quite a surprise to the self-proclaimed Dark Lord. Unfortunately, he knew that magically he had a lot of catching up to do. Riddle had been immersed in the Dark Arts for over fifty years; Harry had only been studying them for a little over a year. Even if he did have a natural talent for it, he still needed to know more. He figured that if given the chance, he could prove himself stronger than either Dumbledore or Voldemort was. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to have a back up wand. He made a mental note to make a trip to Ollivanders as soon as possible.

Grabbing his backpack, he threw in the books he'd need as well as a couple of rolls of parchment, a few quills and some ink. Snatching a spare piece of parchment, he picked up a self-inking quill and scribbled a quick note to Wesley about his success with Drusilla. He'd give it to Hedwig in a few minutes.

Swinging the backpack over his shoulder, he exited his room and walked into the crowded common room. Ignoring the people calling his name, he stepped out through the portrait hole and headed for the owlery.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~~*~*~*

Hedwig was pleased to see her master, swooping down to meet him and affectionately nipping his ear. "Nice to see you too girl." Harry said, smiling warmly and ruffling her feathers. He took the letter from his pocket and tied it to her outstretched leg, "Take this to Wesley for me girl?" he asked. She nipped his finger in response and flew off through the grounds of Hogwarts. He stood there for ten minutes, looking at the view before his stomach grumbled and he headed towards the Great Hall for breakfast.

~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~

He ignored the stares and the whispers that followed in his wake as he strolled to the Gryffindor table. Plunking himself down at the end of the table – as far away from Ron and Hermione as he could get – he began to eat heartily. Someone slid noisily into the seat beside him and he glared at them as his hearing tripled the volume, giving him yet another headache. His annoyance grew as he found himself staring at a camera lens, the flash went off, momentarily blinding him and when his vision recovered he found Colin Creevey smiling happily at him, babbling on about something or another. He groaned inwardly, what had he done to deserve this?

Harry was just reaching the stage where he was considering snapping Colin's neck when Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat. Harry had never been so grateful to the old coot before, somehow he didn't think the Ministry would see extreme annoyance as a plausible excuse for murdering a fellow student.

"We have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor this year. Sadly he was unable to make the start of term feast so it falls to me to introduce him this morning. May I introduce you to Professor Rayne. I hope you will treat him with the proper respect and that there will not be a repeat performance of last year." 

The students clapped because they were expected to, minds wandering back to last year's DADA professor. He had been useless, a complete wimp who stuttered worse than Professor Quirrell. His classes had been a joke and some of the Slytherins – and a few from other houses – had started sending curses his way in class. Dumbledore hadn't been pleased to say the least. 

Harry hadn't liked the man, the professor had believed every word that the Daily Prophet had printed about the supposedly mentally disturbed Boy-Who-Lived and had been terrified of him. The Slytherins may have been amused but Harry sure as hell hadn't been. 

At the present moment, he had a feeling that he was going to hate this years teacher a lot more than the previous ones. Because sitting at the Head Table, trademark smirk on his face sat Ethan Rayne, Dark Arts and chaos magic practitioner, suspected Death Eater and Giles' old schoolmate. He had convinced Giles to help him raise the demon Eyghon, who had ended up killing everybody in their little circle of friends except them two. Since Giles had become Buffy's watcher, Ethan had been a thorn in his side, and a rather dangerous nuisance. Harry had heard tales of the stunts that Ethan had pulled and he wasn't very eager to find out exactly what he had planned for his time at Hogwarts. He was much more interested in what he was doing here in the first place.

Watching the man carefully, he resolved that he and Ethan Rayne were going to have a little... _chat_ in the near future. Harry was not going to tolerate any of his antics here at Hogwarts, especially not when he was a potential target. On the other hand, the rogue spellcaster was last seen being dragged away by the American military to be placed in some special containment facility. How in Merlin's name had he gotten out? 

There were a ton of questions that had to be answered. He wondered if he could convince Dobby to let him slip some Veritaserum into Rayne's food. Nah, he thought after a second, Dobby might let something slip to Dumbledore. It would be better for all involved if he just did it himself. He had a bottle or two in his trunk that would be suitable. He'd have to owl Giles when Hedwig got back, he was sure to be interested in this little development. He couldn't use any of the school owls because they could be tracked. Hedwig had several spells on her that made tracing her movements impossible. 

His eyes locked with Professor Rayne's and the man shot him an obnoxious smirk. Harry gave him his own version in reply. Ethan Rayne was going down.

~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

McGonagall came round and passed out their schedules. Harry took his wordlessly, immediately scanning the contents. He swore when he saw what they had first – double potions – and they were _still_ with the Slytherins!

He grabbed his bag from under the table and grumpily headed to the Dungeons and to yet another year of Snape insulting him. What a bloody perfect start to the day! Not. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~**~*~*~*~

He slid into a seat at the back, making sure to avoid the table where he, Ron and Hermione usually occupied. Parvati and Lavender scuttled by him as quickly as possible. They had been avoiding him ever since Trelawney had predicted that 'great evil would possess him' last year. Of course, that prediction had coincided quite neatly with one of Rita Skeeter's traditionally rubbish articles. The two girls were convinced that he was the spawn of Satan or something along that line. Idiots.

Nobody took the seats next to him, not that he really cared, he preferred to be alone. He calmly took out his cauldron and set it up, seemingly not paying any attention to the chatter around him. That was wrong, he heard every whisper in the room, every scuffle of feet and even the sound of gentle breathing. He heard the soft echo of Snape's footsteps approaching the classroom and was the only one not surprised when he made his abrupt entrance. 

Slamming the door open with such force that it slammed into the wall, Professor Snape stormed into the classroom, black robes billowing and swirling around him as he turned to face the class. It was an interesting effect, Harry decided, intimidating. He quickly looked away as Snape's dark gaze swept over the class, his normal sneer firmly in place. "It seems that I have the displeasure of teaching you once again. Maybe this year, all you dunderheads will manage to _not_ blow up a cauldron each time you set foot into my classroom." His gaze pinned Neville to his seat, making him blush and squirm nervously, ducking his head downwards, no doubt recalling his many mishaps over the years.

"Today you will be making a moderate healing potion. It is on page 136 in your books. Snap to it!" he barked, sitting down behind his desk. 

Harry didn't bother opening his book, he had made this potion several times over the summer for the bruises, cuts and wounds that a slayer tended to acquire. He could probably make it in his sleep at this stage. Gathering the ingredients, he settled into a comfortable routine of chopping, measuring and stirring, his hands moving on autopilot.

Severus picked up a stack of parchment and began working on his lesson plans for next week. He managed to keep his concentration for about ten minutes before he gave in to the urge to look at Harry. He was methodically brewing the potion and doing it perfectly. This didn't surprise Severus as much as it would have during the previous years. He knew that Harry was coming into his own, finally putting some effort into his work instead of skating by without bothering to study at all. 

Realising he was staring, his cheeks became tinged with a faint pink colour, as close to blushing as he ever came. He was very lucky that Harry hadn't picked up on it; he was obviously still new to his calling. Severus knew that anybody trying to observe Harry in about a year's time would have caught the boy's attention.

Standing up, he began to prowl around the classroom, breathing down the necks of the Gryffindors, taking enjoyment out of the fact that they got increasingly nervous the longer he hovered over them. They then made mistakes for which he deducted as many points as possible. The Slytherins were a different story altogether, they received only compliments and praise. It wasn't just a matter of house loyalty; he risked blowing his cover as a spy if he didn't show that he despised the Gryffindors and the Boy-Who-Lived and it was not like he could afford to offend or displease the Death Eater's children, their parents would only make him pay for it at a later date.

Harry worked diligently, feeling a sense of satisfaction as the potion turned the correct light blue colour. He began ladling them into some vials, no use in letting a perfectly good medicine go to waste. His concentration was shattered when Snape took up a position only a few feet away from him. Normally that wouldn't bother him but his senses seemed to be trying to tell him something. 

Knowing that they wouldn't leave him alone until he found the reason for them acting up, he let them loose to explore as they willed. They focused on the form of his professor and Harry was genuinely surprised by what he found. It seemed that Professor Snape really did have some skeletons in his closet. And here he had been, dismissing Ron's idea that Snape was a vampire of some sort. He thought about what a kick Ron would get out of some sort of confirmation before he remembered that he wasn't friends with him anymore. 

His mood took a downturn but he soon gave himself a mental shake. He was the slayer goddamn it! He didn't need anyone but himself! And he definitely didn't need a jealous, hardheaded weasel following him around! Feeling slightly better, he turned his attention back to Snape. There was something _odd_ about the slimy git, and not just the fact that his hair needed a good wash and that he was in dire need of a personality transplant. 

No, this was odd as in supernaturally odd. The man may not have been a vampire like the school gossips liked to speculate but he was most assuredly not entirely human either. Deciding to investigate further, he gathered his magic and reached out towards Snape with an invisible spidery tendril. Tara had taught him how to do this wonderfully useful piece of magic. She was quite good with aura manipulation and had taken it upon herself to show him how to do it due to the fact that it would come in handy at Hogwarts. It worked like this, he reached out to whatever person with his own magic. His magic would then show him the person's aura and he'd have to figure it out from there. 

It was nearly undetectable so the chances of Snape realising what he was doing were very slim. The tendril made contact and within seconds the Potions Master was lit up like a Christmas tree – visible only to Harry of course. It was a fascinating array of colours, black mist radiated from the professor's Dark Mark with green and silver being the predominant colours. Fitting for the head of Slytherin House. What were somewhat surprising were the crimson coils that wrapped themselves around Snape's body. Harry wasn't sure what they meant, he'd never seen that particular shade before now and Tara had never mentioned it. Definitely something to research.

He resolved to keep his eye on Snape. He might not know what was up but he was most assuredly going to find out!

Stopping at the back wall nearest to the door, Severus leaned back against it, arms folded across his chest, onyx orbs keeping watch on the students. He gave up not trying to think about Harry, it seemed that even his own mind was plotting against him. He was worried for the dark-haired Gryffindor, knowing what was going to happen to him but not being able to tell him about it was killing him. Even worse was the knowledge that when Harry came back, he would have no idea what to expect from the slayer. Harry would definitely be upset, that wasn't a question but it was how Harry would deal with the inevitable anger that had his stomach in knots. The way he saw it was either Harry was going to lose his temper completely or he was going to act like a Slytherin and get a calculated revenge. Neither scenario was very pleasant to contemplate. Then again, the rest of the students' reactions, as well as the faculty's – Dumbledore's especially – to Harry's reappearance would probably prove to be vastly amusing.

Would Harry be mad at him for not saying anything? Would he even want to see him? To give him a chance to explain? One thing he knew about Harry was that he didn't take betrayal well. A slayer couldn't afford to give people second chances. Severus hoped that Harry would forgive him; he didn't think he could handle it if it were otherwise. Even now he found it difficult to reconcile the Harry in his classroom today with the Harry he had grown to known and.... Oh dear Merlin, he was brooding. And wallowing in self-recriminations no less! He glanced at his watch, class was nearly over and Longbottom hadn't blown up anything. This must be a new record. Or maybe it was just because Longbottom was only reading from the book while know-it-all Granger did all the work. He smirked; did she really think he wouldn't notice? If he hadn't been so lost in thought he would have caught it almost immediately. As he stalked over to their table, he absently noted that Harry's potion was perfect.

"Granger! Longbottom!" he sneered, drawing the attention of the whole class, "Doing his work for him now Granger? Perhaps you'll start dressing him next? Twenty points from Gryffindor for cheating!"

"But Professor!" Hermione exclaimed.

"A further ten points for Miss Granger's insubordination," Severus sneered and the Slytherins snickered softly. The bell rang, signalling the period was over. "Class dismissed!" he snapped, watching them as they hurriedly packed their things and fled the classroom. He allowed himself the indulgence of watching Harry's retreating form before turning back to his lesson plans with a sigh.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*

Harry tried to continue on to his next class – Transfiguration – but was blocked by the combined efforts of Ron and Hermione. He nearly groaned in irritation. What did they want _now_? 

"We need to talk." Hermione said firmly. It wasn't like he had much of a choice, considering that each of them had quite a strong grip on both of his arms. He _could_ have broken free of their hold but that would only raise suspicions and he really didn't want that.

"Really? I thought that I made myself perfectly clear yesterday." 

"We know you didn't mean it Harry. It's ok, we'll accept your apology." Ron said.

"My _apology_?! Are you insane or just deaf? I am _not_ your friend; I _don't_ want to speak with you and I most certainly won't apologise for simply stating the facts." 

They both looked dumbstruck, Hermione the ever logical recovered first, "Harry, is this something to do with You-Know-Who? Did he do something to you? is that why you're acting like this?" she asked slowly, almost as if she was speaking to a frightened child. 

He jerked out of their grip, straightening his robes and glaring at them. "Ok, now I am just convinced you are idiots. And I thought you were supposed to be smart Mudblood?" he said mockingly, "I am not under any spell. I am doing this of my own free will. Call it a late coming to my senses. I don't know what I ever saw in you two. Come off it, did _Voldemort_," he said, emphasizing the name, "ever do something to me?! How about trying to kill me, what is it, four... five times now?" 

Ron started to say something, advancing on Harry, his six foot four inch frame towering over Harry's but the dark-haired wizard held up a hand and told him to shut up. "Get lost. Run back to your mommies or whatever, just leave me alone. Now, I have a class to go to. Don't bother me again," he finished darkly. Leaving them staring after him, he stormed off in the direction of McGonagall's classroom; ignoring the guilt he felt over the pain he was causing them.

*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hedwig flew in through a window in Wesley's apartment. She landed on the desk beside the man and held out the leg that had the letter attached to it. Wesley untied the roll of parchment, "Thanks Hedwig. There's some water over there if you want some," he offered, gesturing to the bowl that Wesley's owl Spooky used. He had chosen that name on a whim, thinking that it was fitting for an owl living on the Hellmouth. Hedwig hooted gratefully and went over to partake of some well-deserved sustenance.

Wesley was quite pleased that Hedwig had come when she did, he had some news for Harry and he could send it back with his owl now. Unrolling the parchment, he read it over. 

_Wes, _

_Per Giles' request, Drusilla is now dust. And nobody was exaggerating her insanity; she kept calling me 'kitten' of all things! Not bad for my first master eh? I found her in London and staked her last night. I figured you'd want to put it in your Watcher's Journal or something. Oh, you'll never guess who's the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor this year! None other than Ethan Rayne! I've already decided to have a little meeting with him as soon as I can. I've heard too much about his exploits to let him run around Hogwarts! That poor excuse for a human being will be scared witless by the time I'm done with him. Hopefully. There's no other news to tell, besides the fact that my potions professor thinks I'm up to something and Ron and Hermione think I've gone cracked because I told them that I don't want to be their friend anymore! Don't worry though; I'll deal with them. They're not going to find out anything. Keep me posted on the situation in good ol' Sunnyhell. _

_'Til next time, _

_Harry._

Wesley dropped bonelessly into a nearby chair, "Oh dear lord," he breathed, "He's the one Angelus is looking for!" Scrabbling through the mess he liked to call his desk, he found a piece of paper and a pen and jotted down a warning for the rookie slayer. Giving it to Hedwig he shooed her out of his apartment, hoping that Harry hadn't gotten himself in over his head this time. It really wouldn't look good on his record if two slayers got themselves killed while under his watch. Plus, he was actually quite fond of the boy and he truly didn't want Angelus to get his hands on him. 

That blasted brooding vampire couldn't just keep his pants on! _Noooooo_, that would be a little too much to ask. If he wasn't so afraid of having his neck snapped, he might just tell him that. Allowing for the fact that he valued his life, he could only trust that Harry would deal with him with the time came. Either that or he'd just have to send Buffy after him. It would probably be quite a spectacle when Angelus met up with his ex-girlfriend. Wesley wasn't sure if she'd stake him or get Harry to soul him again. Whatever way it went down, it would most likely be something for the history books. He wondered if he could get it on camera, people would pay to see that showdown. It was something to think about at least.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Transfiguration went surprisingly well. McGonagall was overjoyed that Harry had _finally_ begun to take after his father when it came to her class. He effortlessly changed his desk into a full-grown tiger and back again and per McGonagall's request, he performed a host of other spells, earning Gryffindor house fifty points.

Seeing that he had already mastered what she had planned to spend the next three months doing, she took him aside and gave him some advanced textbooks, telling him to study them and that until further notice he had a free class for this period. 

Harry was extremely pleased about this, he planned to become an animagus and having time to practice when his housemates would be in class suited his needs down to the ground. He didn't know what form he would take but there was a potion he could brew to find out. He'd have to do that tonight so he could get started on it. 

~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*

After Transfiguration came History of Magic which was mind numbingly boring as usual. Taking a leaf out of Hermione's book, he decided to use the time for working instead of sleeping. Binns wouldn't notice and wouldn't care what he did so Harry chose to begin reading the books that Wesley had acquired for him.

They were positively ancient, written in Parseltongue so he didn't have to worry about anyone recognising his new reading material. They were rumoured to have once belonged to Slytherin himself and Harry didn't doubt it. Tiny emeralds and diamonds depicted his personal crest – a silver and green snake – on the covers. Harry was careful to enchant the books so that they looked like a History of Magic textbook. 

There were five volumes in total, each cataloguing a different stage of research in Slytherin's life. What had fascinated Harry was the in depth study of the Killing Curse. That was what had initially made him look for the volumes, considering his own experience with the curse. An added bonus though, was the fact that Voldemort had achieved his brand of immortality through using these books. If there was any way to kill the Dark Lord it was written on these pages. 

Harry knew that Voldemort would want them back and so for safety, he shrank them and kept them inside a locket that he wore around his neck. It never came off. Ever. It had been his mother's; he had found it in Gringotts and had worn it faithfully ever since. 

Poring over the magically preserved pages, he quickly found himself completely engrossed in the subject matter. Slytherin's theories were incredible, so complex that they probably would have stumped Hermione but Harry had no problem with them. He also found himself agreeing with many of Slytherin's ideas and principles and strangely enough there was no mention of his infamous hatred of muggles and muggleborns anywhere in the text. In fact, the only mention came of them at all came in the first chapter, where he stated his wariness about their unpredictable attitude towards magic and magic wielders. Loving it one minute and hating it the next. He warned any wizard or witch to be extremely careful when dealing with them and to hide their magic as much as possible. Reasonable suggestions, Harry thought, he wondered what had made Slytherin hate muggles so much by the time he had founded the school.

He nearly missed the bell, but the loud droning noise caught his attention and he quickly packed up his stuff, making sure to ignore Ron and Hermione when leaving. Rumours of their fights had run rampant at lunch, earning them curious looks and ruining his appetite. The fact that most of the school seemed to be siding with Ron and Hermione didn't really help much either. 

He put up with it though; he had grown used to the student populace turning their backs on him when he did something 'unsaviour-like'. His second and fourth years, along with the end of last year were prime examples of that. He used a spell to dump his school things in his room until later. He had an appointment with a professor.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He found the new DADA professor in his classroom, looking over a book on demons. Demons that Harry recognised and demons that were _not_ on the Hogwarts curriculum. He padded into the room, feet not making a sound and unexpectedly slammed his hands down on the desk. Ethan looked up in shock, staring at him and quickly taking in the famous lightning bolt scar. "Mr Potter," he said smoothly, "May I enquire as to what you are doing here?"

Harry used his wand to lock the door and to cast an anti eavesdropping spell. "I'm just here on business _Professor_, or maybe I should call you Ethan like your old friend Ripper?"

The other man's face paled, "Ripper? What on earth are you blathering about?" he said, trying to bluff his way through. 

"Oh don't play dumb with me, Buffy and Giles told me all about you and if you think I'm going to tolerate your brand of chaos on my turf, you've got another thing coming." 

"I hardly think an underage wizard is going to do anything about it. I could leave your house in negative points and have you in detention until you graduate."

"You could, but you won't." Harry said cheerfully, "And you won't be teaching about demons anymore," he continued, taking the book from Ethan and pocketing it for another time, "The Wizarding world is not supposed to know about them and you know it. I'm also curious about how you escaped from the Americans. Last I heard you were being locked up in some facility by a secret division of the American army. Called the Initiative I believe? I wonder would they be interested in knowing your current location?"

With an impossibly quick movement, he had Ethan by the collar and slammed him up against the wall, pinning him there. "You see, you have a bad reputation with slayers and I'm not going to put up with you messing around with my calling."

His words finally registered in Ethan's mind, "You're a slayer?" He received a nod in the affirmative. "Impossible! Slayers are _girls_!" he cried. 

"I guess I'm the first of my kind," Harry said agreeably, he applied a little pressure to Ethan's neck, cutting off his air supply. "Now listen up and listen good 'cause I'm not going to repeat myself. If I even _think_ for the smallest moment that you are up to no good, I am going to get _very_ angry and you _don't_ want to see me angry. Trust me on that point. I will hurt you so bad that you will be in St Mungos for a year, or else six feet under, it depends on where the mood takes me I suppose. Do you understand Rayne?" he snarled, applying a little more pressure on the man's neck. Ethan spluttered, nodding his head furiously.

Harry let go of him and he dropped to the ground unceremoniously, clutching at his bruised throat and glaring daggers at Harry.

"None of that now," Harry said, wagging his finger at the fallen wizard, "You don't want to try my patience now, do you?"

Harry casually unlocked the door, pausing before pushing it open, "Ethan? A suggestion – get a new job for next year. I really don't want to have to put up with you for any longer than I have to. You might want to expect a visit from Ripper while you're at it. I heard your last escapade in Sunnydale made him a teensy weenie bit mad. See ya round," he smirked as he exited the classroom, leaving a shaking, stunned and more than a little bit baffled Ethan Rayne lying on the floor.

~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~**~

Hedwig was waiting for him when he got back to Gryffindor Tower, wings drooping in exhaustion; she obviously hadn't had much of a rest at Wesley's. Gently untying the letter, he picked her up and placed her on one of the armchairs. He unfolded the paper, easily recognising Wesley's familiar scrawl.

_Harry, _

_Trouble is heading your way. Angelus has returned – Angel slept with Lila this time, the bloody idiot! – and he's more than a little mad that you killed Drusilla. Suffice it to say that he spent a considerable amount of time and energy driving her insane and is now out for revenge against her killer, which would be you. Don't try and take him on in a purely physical fight – he's not known for playing fair. Use magic to dust him the minute you see him! If you can't handle it, send me an owl so I can get Buffy over there. _

_Congratulations on your first master. It's nice to know that all your training paid off! As for Ethan Rayne, the man is an utter menace. Impossible to keep in line. Try and get him fired as soon as possible or even better, get him to resign! Keep in touch and be alert! Angelus is not someone to be taken lightly!_

_Wesley._

Harry groaned as he read the letter. Just what he needed, another thing out for his blood! Best not to worry about it now though, there were other things he could be doing with his time. As Quidditch captain this year, he had to get the team in shape for the cup this year. Luckily, he had had the foresight to put together a reserve team last year so he didn't have any places that needed filling. He'd lost the bulk of his team, Fred, George, Angelina, Katie and Alicia had all graduated last year. He quickly drew up a sheet with the practice times on it. He had gone to Madame Hooch that morning and booked the pitch. He'd have loved to see Malfoy's face when he realised who had beaten him to get the best practice times! 

Taking the parchment with him, he went to put it up in the common room.

~*~*~*~**~~**~*~*~*~*~**~~

The Gryffindor common room was the same as usual, loud, cheerful and packed with people. Harry quickly stuck the poster to the notice board with some spellotape and turned around to go back to his room when he bumped into someone. Said someone was Colin Creevey. He couldn't believe the little twerp was following him again!

"Harry! I was looking for you, I was wondering if I could take photographs of the Quidditch team at their practices?" Harry gaped at the hyperactive fifth year; take photographs of their practices. They may as well just let the Slytherins in on all their strategies! 

"No Colin!" he exclaimed, "No pictures! It would be Christmas time for the Slytherins if they got their hands on them!"

Colin looked crushed but Harry wasn't going to budge on this one. He was making to leave when Ron spoke up, "You don't have to be so mean to him, you know. You're not the all perfect Harry Potter."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Harry snapped, his temper wearing thin.

"It means that not everybody has to bow down before you!" Ron said, still angry about Harry's brush off of him and Hermione. "You're not some sort of god!" 

"I never said I was _Weasel_. So I would advise you to shut up before I do it for you!"

By now the entire common room had gone silent, watching the fight. Ron's temper was legendary, he definitely lived up to the term 'fiery redhead' but Harry had a lot of power at his disposal as well as Dark Magic.

"What? You're going to use the Dark Arts again? Perhaps the Unforgivables this time?" Ron sneered, "After all, you want to show your lord that you're a good little Death Eater don't you?"

Harry felt his control wavering under an overwhelming wave of fury, how dare he say that he served that snake! "Take that back Weasel," he demanded, raising his wand until it was aimed directly at Ron. 

The other boy took out his wand as well, confident in the fact that Harry wouldn't try anything in front of half of Gryffindor House. "Why should I? You're a Parselmouth, you killed Cedric Diggory and you serve Voldemort. Why should I do anything you say?"

Gasps were heard throughout the room, it was one thing to whisper behind his back but for someone to say it to his face... and one of his best friends no less, the rumours had to be true! Everyone unconsciously backed away from Harry, believing everything Ron said. Hermione stood to the side, near Ron, silently supporting him.

Harry may have broken it off with his friends but their betrayal still cut deep. He, the slayer work for Voldemort?! Not in a million years! They should know that! "I have never, am not and will never serve Voldemort," he snarled, emerald eyes starting to glow with repressed power. Hermione's eyes widened and she stepped back but Ron was far too stubborn – or too stupid. He couldn't decide which. 

"Like I believe that! The way you're acting this year and what you did last year is proof enough! Hell, you're probably glad Voldemort killed your parents! Probably even thanked him for it!"

Harry advanced on his taller ex-friend, moving like a dangerous panther. "You do realise that the only thing keeping me from seriously cursing you is respect for your parents?" he said softly, but with an underlying tone of steel.

"Don't talk about my parents!" Ron shouted.

"Then don't insult mine!" 

"At least I have parents! Unlike you, you murdering ba..." Ron never got a chance to finish his sentence as every single breakable thing in the common room exploded, shards of glass and pottery flying everywhere. The other Gryffindors screamed and tried to avoid the sharp debris. The only one unaffected was Harry himself, who was shaking with rage, blood pounding through his temples and clouding his vision. 

Ron suddenly realised that he might have gone too far but it was too late to take it back now. He had forgotten Harry's... extreme reactions to anyone who insulted his long dead parents. "Consider yourself warned Weasel," Harry sneered, "Keep out of my way and don't you ever _ever_ talk to me like that again!" 

Ron nodded dumbly, wondering who the green-eyed demon before him was. Harry had never been like this before and Ron had known him since first year on the train! The dark-haired wizard stalked out of the room, wanting to get out of there before McGonagall showed up and chewed him out.

Silence was the only thing he heard from behind him.

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~~*

Later that night, Harry snuck out of the tower under his invisibility cloak and headed for the library. Mrs Norris spotted him but didn't come near him, apparently deciding that he was a bit too much like a predator for her tastes. Not that he was complaining. He crept into the Restricted Section and began hunting for the books he needed.

He found the one with the Animagus potion – the ever useful copy of Most Potente Potions – quickly enough though it took him a bit longer to find any books concerning Salazar Slytherin's research but eventually he realised that they wouldn't be in the library if they're were any others. They'd most likely be in the Chamber of Secrets. He'd have to check it out when he had some free time.

He did however find a few books on Dark curses and hexes that he found interesting. Waving his wand and muttering a few words, he made a few blank books appear on the shelves to mask the fact that he'd taken some of them. Shrinking the ones he'd taken he placed them in his pocket and went back to Gryffindor Tower, careful to avoid Filch and any teacher who was prowling about. McGonagall had yelled at him and Ron after she found out about their fight and she'd taken sixty points from Gryffindor. 

She'd looked at him strangely when she heard about the accidental magic he'd performed and they had left her office to her muttering things about 'idiotic boys' and 'juvenile behaviour'. He hadn't talked with anyone since than and he didn't have any intention of doing so. Ever since the fight, even the Gryffindors were glaring at him and calling him a murderer. Never to his face of course, they had learned from Ron's mistake. 

He flopped onto his bed, planning on going to sleep instead of patrolling. He didn't want to act suspiciously so soon after terrifying his housemates. Kicking off his shoes and throwing his robe onto the floor, he got under the covers and looked forward to a good night's sleep.

~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

The next morning silence greeted them as he entered the Great Hall. Plopping into his seat, he ignored the resumed chatter, hearing his name being mentioned all too often. It seemed that the news of the incident in the Gryffindor common room had spread like wildfire, with Ron being hailed as the hero of the encounter. 

Of course, Ron who had always sought the limelight was lapping it up. Proudly recounting his tale for those who had not been present and embellishing it for the story's – and his ego's – sake. Harry irritably munched on his toast, debating various methods of revenge. Perhaps he could just give Ron to Angelus, which would get rid of two problems because they'd end up killing each other or committing suicide. He shot down that idea before he got too attached to it, and decided to just buckle down to his schoolwork until the gossip died down.

~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*

As soon as he left the hall, Draco Malfoy and his two goons cornered him. Harry was sooo _not_ in the mood to deal with Ferret-boy and Dumb and Dumber at this time. He'd be too prone to killing them. "So Potty, gone dark have we? Not the Gryffindor's Golden Boy anymore?" he mocked. 

"Not today Malfoy." Harry muttered, turning to walk away. 

"I don't think so Pothead," Malfoy said, stepping into his path and blocking his way out. Harry had had enough; he refused to deal with him now. Raising his wand, he flicked it and where Draco Malfoy once stood was now a ferret, who began bouncing from the floor to the ceiling with another swish of Harry's wand. Two quick stunning curses took down Crabbe and Goyle and he looked at them for a moment, a sadistic smirk spreading across his lips. After a minute of enjoying his handiwork – he did think he had done a better job than the Fake Mad-Eye Moody had in his fourth year – and carelessly stepped over the hulking forms of the two stunned Slytherins and headed to Herbology, leaving them there for entertainment's sake.

~*~**~*~*~*~***~*~*~**~*~*~*

Draco Malfoy was sulking in the Slytherin common room; he couldn't believe what that blasted Potter had done to him! He was a Malfoy for goodness sake! It just wasn't done! Of course, he took a perverse sense of amusement in the malicious gossip surrounding the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Annoy-Him; Perfect Potter was getting what he deserved though the very idea of Pothead as the new Dark Lord was too ludicrous to even contemplate!

A sudden burning pain in his left arm left him gasping for air, muscles screaming with the pain. Rushing to his dormitory he hastily donned his Death Eater robes and mask before grabbing the portkey that was disguised as his watch and said the activation word, "Morsmordre."

He felt a tug at his navel and then he was spinning. He crash-landed outside Riddle House, his feet falling out from under him. His father was waiting for him and looked at him in disgust for falling. "Come," he snapped, "Our Lord wants to see you."

Draco followed behind his swiftly moving father and soon he had entered Lord Voldemort's throne room. "Malfoy," he hissed, "Your son has news for me?" Red serpentine eyes glared at him, telling him that he had damn well better have something to report.

"Yes my Lord." Lucius murmured, bowing and pushing Draco forward. Draco knelt down and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes as he was expected to. "My Lord," he began, submissively keeping his eyes on the ground, "Potter has changed over the summer. His powers seem increased and he is no longer friends with Weasley and the Mudblood Granger. He has the school frightened of him already; they believe that he serves you my Lord. He is isolating himself and the teachers seem to be keeping an eye on him."

"Hmmm, most interesting," Voldemort hissed, fingers tapping softly on his chair made of black marble. "Perhaps he can be brought over to our side. He is alone, friendless and the Ministry will use any excuse to put him in Azkaban."

"My Lord, he publicly declared that he would never serve you in the Gryffindor common room. They say that he was quite angry at the very suggestion." 

"I see. Leave Malfoy, go back to Hogwarts before Dumbledore realises you are gone."

"Yes my Lord," he said, bowing as he left. Lucius followed him at Voldemort's command. The Dark Lord was in need of some time alone himself. He waved his hand and a piece of parchment appeared in front of him. The same piece of parchment that had strengthened his decision to go after the Potters.

The prophecy written on it went back nearly two decades, given by a gifted seer. It told of the Dark Lord's downfall. He had hastened to prevent it and instead he had caused it to come true. The irony was not lost on him.

Still, Potter, according to Malfoy and the many rumours floating about, was coming into his own. That could be a good thing or a very bad thing. Harry Potter would make an excellent ally but a fearsome enemy. He would just have to convince the boy that the road to true power lay with him. Through any means necessary.

~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In a secret room just off the headmaster's personal chambers, a group of people gathered. They were dressed in red and gold robes and a phoenix statue stood in the middle of the large table. There were about two dozen people there, including Albus Dumbledore, Arthur Weasley, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Mundungus Fletcher, Mad-Eye Moody – the real one - and Arabella Figg. Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat, calling them to order, "I have called this meeting of the Order of the Phoenix to discuss the problem of Harry Potter. He is becoming a threat to the Order. I fear that he may follow in Voldemort's footsteps." 

Sirius leapt to his feet outraged, "Harry would never do that! He's nothing like Voldemort!" the animagus argued. 

Dumbledore told him to sit down, "Harry is in many ways very similar to the Dark Lord. Harry Potter and Tom Riddle look virtually identical to each other, both are Parselmouths and they own brother wands. Tom Riddle was academically brilliant, the best student Hogwarts has ever seen and from what Harry's teachers are saying so far, they have never seen such a gifted student. It is three days into the term and already he has blown up the Gryffindor common room, he is acting suspiciously and has transfigured a classmate into a ferret..."

"Malfoy?" Sirius asked curiously.

"It doesn't matter who it is, what matters is that he did it. We are losing our control over him. That is unacceptable. Harry Potter is our best and maybe only chance to defeat the Dark Lord."

"But what about you Albus?" Minerva added, "You are the only wizard he has ever feared. Surely if worst came to worst..."

"Alas, but Voldemort is to strong for me. I cannot defeat him and he knows it. If Potter joins with Voldemort, we are doomed. We will not be able to take down one let alone the both of them. Brother wands working together can do unimaginable things..."

Severus nervously listened to the Order debate the different solutions to the problem. He was scared for Harry, he knew all to well what lengths Dumbledore would go to to get what he wanted. He could only hope that Harry went back before Dumbledore did something to him. He wanted to speak up in Harry's defence but Dumbledore was the only thing keeping him from being thrown in Azkaban and the headmaster bloody well knew it. And lorded it over Severus in such a way that he was forced to serve both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord.

In Severus' mind they were both as bad as the other. Indeed, Dumbledore might be worse because he pretended to be the good guy. Dumbledore had carefully planned every step of Harry's life from the moment he defeated Voldemort. There was a reason why he had left Harry with the Dursleys and it wasn't because he feared Harry would get a swelled head. No, it was so that when Harry was introduced to the Wizarding world he would think Dumbledore was his saviour and believe every word the man said. 

Years of manipulation on the headmaster's part had created a purely Gryffindor Harry, just like he wanted it. After all, Dumbledore had let Harry weather every attack on Hogwarts by Voldemort no matter how young he had been at the time. Though the abuse Harry had suffered at the Dursleys – the abuse that the headmaster had known about – was a prime example of the man's callousness. 

Judging by the conversation around him, Harry was in for a world of trouble that he wasn't yet ready to face. When he came back, he would be but now, not a chance. And until then, there was nothing Severus could do to help, regardless of how it maddened him so to be helpless.

He tuned back into the meeting in time to hear Dumbledore's damning words, "Then we will bring him under our control. Through any means necessary."

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~*~**

Authors Note: Well? Most of you wanted the second chapter to be longer so here it is! Over double the length of chapter one! Again thank you to all who reviewed chapter one, so please repeat the favour and review this one too! Pleeeeeeease!

Asha Dreamweaver.


	3. Cruel Intentions

History Repeats Itself by Asha Dreamweaver 

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.  – Except for the plot. 

Authors Note: You guys are so sweet! Thank you for all the reviews, they really mean a lot to me. I only posted this story on a whim and wasn't really planning on continuing it but you lot made me change my mind and I now planning on sticking to this story until its conclusion. Sorry if this chapter is kind of late by my sister ended up in the hospital and I had a few projects for school. As much as I would like to thank everyone separately I can't. I really don't want the Author's Notes longer than the actual chapter! So what I'm going to do is answer the questions posed in various reviews. 

_Snape __–_ Yes, he's setting off Harry's slayer senses but if you think I'm giving away half the plot you've got another thing coming! I'll give you a hint though – he's not evil, at least not completely. And no, he's not going to tell Harry anything.

_Dumbledore_ – Yes, I know I'm making him kind of unlikeable but it's all for the plot! And as for whether he's going to do something to Harry, read and find out!

_Angelus_ – He's going to be a major thorn in Harry's side. The poor boy won't know what hit him!

_The Prophecy_ – Very important but my lips are sealed.

_Ethan Rayne_ is going to cause problems. BIG problems. Watch out for him.

_Ron and Hermione_ finding out? As of yet I am undecided. As for _sword fighting_.... who knows?

On another note, two reviews mentioned some similarities between my story and a fic called, "The Mirror of Maybe" which I have never read. I have duly checked it out though – It's really cool by the way – and my story will **not** be heading _anywhere_ in that direction. And also, I just want to point out that Kings Cross Station wouldn't have a lot of safe apparition spots for Harry. Only the bathroom or a broom closet. I chose the more plausible version. I hope that straightens everything out! Again, big thanks are extended to all who reviewed. Please continue doing so!

**Chapter 3:**

It was well after midnight, and darkness covered most of Hogwarts like a thick impenetrable blanket. A stream of silver light from the crescent moon provided just enough light for Harry to see, his keen eyes easily piercing through the shadows of the deserted rooms and corridors. He was deep within the bowels of Hogwarts, in an old, disused classroom in an out of the way part of the dungeons. He knew he ran the risk of Snape or one of the Slytherins catching him but this was the one of the safest places to brew the animagus potion. He had set up several temporary warding charms and that protection would have to suffice. 

Shifting his copy of Most Potente Potions, he re-read the instructions, making sure he had followed them correctly. The potion required that it be brewed during the time that the muggles called the 'Witching Hours' – after midnight but before the dawn. It was an unusual clause but the potion was immensely complex to brew. 

He would be dead on his feet tomorrow but he was determined to see this through. He needed the advantage that an animagus form would give him. He had realised that Voldemort would be a bigger enemy than he had first suspected and he had resolved to take all the measures he could to prepare them for their next encounter. He had barely escaped with his life after the TriWizard Tournament and he had nearly lost their duel last year. Both times, he'd survived due to pure luck. He couldn't, _wouldn't_ rely on that anymore. The Dark Lord had proven to be stronger than anyone had ever believed, fully capable of using wandless magic instead of risking Priori Encanteum. Harry hadn't had that luxury at the time and his seeker reflexes were often the only things that had stopped him from being hit with some of Voldemort's curses. The Unforgivables being his favourites, especially Cruciatus, considering the other two didn't work too well on Harry. 

He turned his attention back to the simmering potion, it was nearly ready and it had acquired a translucent look to it. He had had to buy most of the ingredients at Knockturn Alley since the potion wasn't exactly legal. With the Ministry clamping down on unregistered animagi, all information regarding the coveted animagus transformation had been locked away. Of course, the restricted section had quite the selection of books on the subject and Harry had no doubt as to where his father had gotten his knowledge about it.

He, on the other hand, had preferred to get them in Knockturn Alley. That way he could look at them whenever he pleased without worrying about Madame Pince noticing that some of her precious tomes were missing. That woman guarded her books with all the ferocity of a dragon protecting its horde of treasure. Unpleasant to say the least. The woman may not have been able to breathe fire but she had a scathing tongue that could quickly cut you down to the size of a flobberworm.

Cancelling the fire spell that he had used to heat the cauldron, he cast a cooling charm and ladled some into a goblet. The animagus potion was supposed to show you your ideal animagus form – but only if you had the ability to become one. It was designed to match your personality traits with the animal best suited to them and it was the only way to know what you would turn into. Picking up the goblet, he looked dubiously at the bluey-grey liquid. It didn't exactly look appealing. He quickly gulped it down, nose wrinkling at the taste and waited to see if anything would happen.

A strange woozy feeling overtook him, his head spinning as the potion worked through his system. He felt as if someone was picking at his brain with a very sharp toothpick – several of them in fact.  A dull yellow glow surrounded his right hand and it rose involuntarily so that the palm of his hand was facing the wall. The light grew and formed a beam that hit the wall, a blurry shape beginning to coalesce inside it. The shape grew more and more distinct until Harry could make it out with crystal clear clarity.

Pitch black fur, emerald green eyes that were an exact replica of his own and a jagged scar over one eye, a faded grey line that resembled his famous lightning bolt. A memory of his fight with Drusilla came back to him and he didn't know whether to laugh or groan. 'Kitten' indeed! It seemed his animagus form was a cat. The crazy vampiress had actually been right!

Before he could ponder the irony of her words, the image began to change instead of fading away as the book had said it would. The illusion morphed into that of a snake, a few feet in length with shimmering greeny-black scales, deadly fangs and again bright green eyes. That damn scar was there too. It didn't seem to matter what creature he was, he still had it. He'd never heard of this happening before. Two animagus forms? Was such a thing even possible? 

As he was mulling over that, the shape changed to that of something that looked like a.... snitch? Wait a minute! It was a snidget! He'd read about them. A tiny little bird, with a very long, thin beak and jewel-like eyes. It was also completely round. It really did look remarkably like the Golden Snitch he regularly chased around the Quidditch pitch.

The changes didn't stop there though and continued on while Harry watched, wondering if it really was too late and he was dreaming. Next came a dragon, one that was uncomfortably familiar to him. Say hello to the Hungarian Horntail, he thought morosely. Maybe the potion was faulty? No, he knew it was right, it just didn't explain this and his weary brain wasn't exactly coming up with anything convincing at this point in time.

The Horntail, the most dangerous of all dragon breeds had black scales, a lizard-like appearance, green eyes, bronze horns and matching bronze spikes that stuck out from its long tail. He recalled the fire breathing capabilities of the Horntail he had gotten past during the TriWizard Tournament and decided that maybe this form wouldn't be a bad thing, even if it was a little on the big side – as well as being hard to hide.

A black panther and a stunning Phoenix followed up the dragon and the light then winked out. His hand dropped to his side but otherwise he stood shock-still. He always had to be different, didn't he? And exactly what form was he going to concentrate on first? He quickly checked one of his books on animagi and it said nothing about multiple forms. Was this a bad reflection on his personality? He wasn't quite sure. Still, common sense dictated that he could do nothing tonight and would have to hit the books tomorrow. It was past five a.m and he badly needed some sleep. He'd just have to agonize over it later. 

~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~*~*~*

He woke to that blasted alarm clock again, its piercing wail making his head pound painfully. He glared at it and it burst into flame, falling to ashes within seconds. Ah, blessed peace, he thought as he rolled over. He was exhausted, who cared if he missed classes? Closing his eyes, he let sleep claim him once more.

~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~*~*~**~

In the Great Hall, several pairs of eyes were scouting for Harry but came up empty. He hadn't shown up to breakfast and nobody had seen him. Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, his hold was slipping. It was time to put his plans into action.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*

Heaving a great sigh, Harry closed the book and set it on top of the ever-growing pile on the table. He'd looked _everywhere_ for that blasted crimson aura and found nothing! It was driving him insane! And at this point, research of any kind was wearing thin. Restless energy coursed through him, he was too hyped up, he would probably have to patrol tonight. If only to stop him from bouncing off the walls.

Worse still, he had found nothing about his rather unique animagus.... animagi? transformations and his patience was wearing thin. He had woken up a little before lunch and had avoided going to the Great Hall in favour of the library. He had stopped by the kitchens on the way and gotten some food from the house elves. Of course, he'd had to phrase his request very carefully. One wrong word and they'd have given him enough food to feed his entire house!

He'd snuck it – and himself – past Madame Pince under his invisibility cloak and had settled into a secluded area of the library, setting proximity spells to warn him of anyone approaching. He had blown off a whole days classes and he doubted that any of his teachers would be happy with him.

He had been intensely curious about Snape's highly unusual characteristic. Merlin knows it was time that he found some dirt on the man. Besides knowing that Snape was a spy against Voldemort, he knew almost nothing about the man's personal life and everybody knew that's where the blackmailing material was.

Still, it looked like his curiosity would have to remain unsated for a little while longer. The books in the castle – including the restricted section – had been tapped out. None dealt with the in depth aura analysis he needed. He hoped Hedwig was up for a flight; he would have to ask Tara to send him something. He _knew_ that _something_ was up with Snape, he just needed to know what. Snape's hatred of him wasn't any secret and Harry firmly believed in the muggle saying, 'Know your enemies'. He really didn't want anything unexpected to creep up on him, it was bad enough with Voldemort trying to do it every bloody year. 

He seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time in the library for one reason or another. It was bound to be noticed eventually but what could he do? Somehow, he didn't see old Dumblebore volunteering any information. Officially stumped, he was at a loss as to what to do. He scrawled a quick request to Tara and stuffed it in his pocket to give to Hedwig later.

It was fairly short and to the point, he wasn't exactly in the mood for meaningless pleasantries today.

_Tara, _

_I need help. I need you to send me all the information on auras that you've got – especially crimson ones. Someone at school has got me on edge and I'd really like to rule out the possibility of them trying to kill me. Please send me something soon; this whole scenario's making me stir crazy._

_Harry._

Deciding that he'd spent too much time already with his head buried in a stack of books, he went to find an empty classroom where he could practice his training. He was frustrated, irritable and altogether not looking forward to the dressing down he was bound to receive from his professors tomorrow. It was time to blow off some steam before he inadvertently damaged something – like Malfoy again. He really didn't another detention or worse yet – an audience with the headmaster. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to restrain himself from forcibly taking whatever information the man was hiding from him. And for some reason he really couldn't bring himself to care if he did or not.

~*~*~**~**~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~*

Voldemort absently petted Nagini as he pondered over a particularly difficult – and stubborn – problem, one that went by the name of Harry Potter. The dratted boy just had to try and ruin every single plan he made, he wasn't sure how he was doing it but it was getting damn annoying. Unfortunately for him, the boy was powerful and would probably grow stronger still. He couldn't bear for such a waste of power but neither could he bear to contend against such an enemy. Even Dumbledore had never caused him so much trouble and nobody else had ever come so close to killing him.

Potter couldn't be allowed to run loose; he had to be brought under control. But how? He had several of his top Death Eaters looking into possible solutions and he had investigated some other promising ideas himself. 

There was one particularly delicious idea that appealed to him but did he have to time to wait for everything to fall into place? There was only one way to find out. 

"WORMTAIL!!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*

Harry relentlessly pummelled the conjured dummy. He had enchanted it to fight back but it wasn't a very good substitute for a real live demon. He had holed himself up in the room where he had brewed the animagus potion before and had again magically warded it. While he had to be careful about his patrolling excursions – namely he couldn't get caught, that didn't mean he could afford to let himself get out of shape. Of course he wasn't really sure a slayer _could_ get out of shape but that was no excuse for not training. He couldn't rely on magic forever and he had to admit to a certain satisfaction that came with beating up the bad guys. He totally agreed with what Buffy had once said, "Kicking ass is comfort food." It was really good for getting out all your anger whilst doing your job.

After all, with Angelus apparently after his ass, he really couldn't afford to get sloppy. If the legends were true, the Scourge of Europe was not someone to mess around with. Not that that put Harry off any, Voldemort was kind of hard to live up too. 

Both Buffy and Wesley had agreed that his strengths as a slayer lay in his speed, accuracy and instincts. Thanks to his training as Seeker and the already honed reflexes he had as a result of it, his speed was unreal even for a slayer. He had been informed that when he really got going it was even hard to make him out as a blur. They had said that he was more like a draught of wind, swift and impossible to see until it hit you. His instincts were also top notch thanks to five years of having to dodge Voldemort's curses and another ten-plus years with the Dursleys. 

He was hoping that instinct would extend to his animagus training. He needed full use of his forms as soon as possible. While he was sparring with the dummy, he had decided to try for his cat form first as it was the least noticeable and he'd be able to pass for some student's pet, granting him unlimited access to any of the four houses' common rooms. It was a very Slytherin-esque plan he had to admit.

Conjuring a soft rug, he sat down Indian-style on the floor and concentrated on changing into his animal. He felt a slight tingling in his fingers and opened his eyes to study his new... claws? They looked really strange considering his hand was its normal size and the claws looked really out of proportion compared to it. 

The secret of the animagus transformation was all in your head, you had to have the strength of will to force your body to change form without spells or wands. That was why so few witches and wizards succeeded. You had to be very focused and very determined. It still rankled him that Wormtail had managed to do it, even if he only changed into a rat. It meant that Pettigrew hadn't been as stupid as previously thought. 

Determinedly, he thought about his cat form, visualising every detail and slowly, slowly he began to change, bones and muscle twisting and reforming into their new shape. When he opened his eyes again, he found that everything was a lot bigger than it had been earlier and that he was now a lot closer to the ground.  

Stretching luxuriously, he spent a good fifteen minutes getting used to his new body and prowling around the room. He sincerely hoped that Sirius would never give in to any dog-like urges if he was in the vicinity, even if his godfather didn't know about his attempt to follow in his father's footsteps.  Once satisfied that he could control his cat-self, he decided to try out some of his other forms. He spent a good few hours getting used to them, morphing into everything except Hungarian Horntail Harry. He seriously doubted that his dragon form would fit in any room in the castle. 

He didn't even notice the passage of time until he caught sight of his watch. Immediately he started swearing and he hurriedly scooped up his things, dismantling the wards and rushing out the door. He was going to be late for Quidditch practice and he was supposed to be the captain! He ran to the Quidditch pitch in a normal human speed, just in case anybody could see him, transfiguring his school robes into his Quidditch robes and summoning his broom. 

His Firebolt zoomed into his hand just as he stepped into the locker rooms to face his six team mates. One of whom was glaring daggers at him, one watching his every move and the other four were clearly terrified. He sighed, having a sinking feeling that this wasn't going to go well at all.

Most of the Gryffindor Quidditch team had graduated last year so the reserve players had moved onto the official team. Replacing the Weasley twins as Beaters were Seamus Finnegan and a fourth year called Marcus Ashford. Moving into the Chaser positions were Ginny Weasley, Colin Creevey and Dean Thomas. Ron was still playing Keeper. 

"Alright then," he started, "Let's go and practice some of the basic manoeuvres, okay? I'll let the balls out." 

They reluctantly followed his orders, though he was still aware of Ron's angry gaze boring holes into his back. If looks could kill...

~*~*~*~*~**~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~

After an exhausting Quidditch practice, Ron cleaned up and met Hermione in her room. They had agreed to discuss Harry's behaviour away from a dorm full of curious ears. Muttering a greeting to his friend, he flung himself into a chair by the fireplace, sighing as his weary muscles got a chance to relax. Harry had really been a taskmaster during practice, even more so than Oliver Wood had been during his years at Hogwarts. 

Hermione handed him a Butterbeer from goodness knows where and he gratefully exclaimed his thanks before attacking the warm drink, draining a quarter of it in one gulp. "You're a lifesaver 'Mione." 

"Now that you seem more awake, perhaps we can get back to the matter at hand?" she asked, looking at him pointedly. 

"Right then," he agreed, "Harry's being a jerk. What are we supposed to do about it?"

"Ron! It could be something serious like You-Know-Who!"

The redhead rolled his eyes, "Or more likely, the fame's gone to his head. At the moment, he's in more danger of becoming the next Dark Lord than getting killed by him."

Hermione glared at him, hands on her hips, doing a very good impression of Professor McGonagall. "No matter what it is, things can't just continue as they are."

"And this concerns us how? Harry made it perfectly clear that he wants nothing to do with us anymore. If he wants to go off and be that way, what do I care? He even called you a Mudblood! Do you really want to patch things up with him?"

Her nose scrunched up in thought, "What I want is the old Harry back. Not the Harry that's wandering about now." 

"That Harry's long gone 'Mione. He's been changing ever since fourth year. For Merlin's sake, _Malfoy_ knows more about the night of the Third Task than we do! Harry never bothered to tell us his version did he? For all we know, Harry _could_ have killed Cedric!"

"But You-Know-Who did come back! He came so close to getting Hogwarts last term! Harry was the only one that could hold him off! Even Dumbledore couldn't!" she cried, sinking into the chair opposite Ron.

"What are you trying to say?"

"What I'm trying to say is that Harry _has_ to defeat the Dark Lord! Or else it'll be like before He fell – everybody running around scared to death of him, Death Eaters killing Squibs and Muggle-borns.... If He doesn't fall..." her voice broke, "I-I don't want to die Ron."

Ron moved off his chair and went over to comfort her, wrapping his long arms around her and holding her close. "You're not going to die 'Mione," he said firmly. "It was only pure luck that You-Know-Who got in here last year. He probably had someone helping him out on the inside and Dumbledore will have taken care of that. Hogwarts has never fallen. That was the first time the Dark Lord ever dared to attack. He's afraid of Dumbledore, he is."

Hermione sniffled and snuggled closer to the illusion of safety, "But he didn't seem afraid last term..."

"Pure luck 'Mione, it was only pure luck. The Ministry's doing all it can and the aurors are there to take care of the Death Eaters. We won't have to worry about the school again."

"It still doesn't take care of our little problem."

"What? Harry? He's not our problem anymore. If he's going to act like Malfoy then good riddance to him. We don't have to put up with that kind of treatment from anybody."

"We still have to keep an eye on him though," she insisted. 

"Haven't you been listening to a word I've said?"

"No, I have! It's just he used an awful lot of Dark Magic last term Ron; he's probably learned even more. I don't think we can trust him anymore. For all we know he could have switched sides and gone to You-Know-Who. I mean he had to have learned it from somewhere but that still doesn't make any sense because they were trying to kill each other a few months ago!"

"You're saying that we should what? Spy on him?"

"Exactly."

"'Mione are you mad?! He's _dangerous_!"

"Precisely why we should be keeping an eye on him. We don't want to be blindsided do we? I know we told Professor Dumbledore but there's something so strange about Harry. There has been ever since he came back from summer holidays. He's not just distant like he was last year, it's like he's a caged animal or something, just waiting to get out."

"I think you're making too much of things. Simply put, Harry is acting like a complete prat, and we know he's a dangerous prat. So the less we have to do with the likes of him the better."

"Ron!"

"Listen I'm not saying we shouldn't watch him, just that we shouldn't get ourselves blown up doing it, okay?"

Hermione nodded and they sat in comfortable silence for a long while.

~*~*~**~*~*~**~**~*~**~*~*~*~*~*

Snape's POV 

He had to resist the urge to drum his fingers on the edge of his chair. Merlin how he hated staff meetings! It was only a little over a week into the term, couldn't they at least have waited until the end of the month? Of course, Albus wouldn't allow him to conveniently 'forget' about the dratted meeting and had personally escorted him up to the staff lounge. 

He was thoroughly bored, Filch's complaints and Trelawney's mutterings held no interest for him. He refused to be baited into an argument with Minerva. It wasn't as if he didn't know who'd win the bloody Quidditch cup! What else could he expect with a Malfoy as Seeker? Granted, the boy wasn't as bad as his father had been, he was worse! So once again Gryffindor would win and he'd have to listen to Minerva's gloating. And with that Chang girl giving up Quidditch to study for her NEWTs, Ravenclaw had to train a new seeker. Well, at least Slytherin wouldn't come last.

He perked up when Albus stood, hoping the torture was over but alas, apparently it was only beginning.... 

"Now," the headmaster began cheerily, "I believe that with the success of the Yule Ball the last two years, we should introduce another at Halloween. A chorus of mutterings sounded through the room, with various teachers asking questions and wondering particulars. He snorted lightly, trust Albus to come up with the idea. A party on the anniversary of the Dark Lord's fall, a time when he would surely be planning something spectacular to boost his ego. A ball would get his goat in a way that only Albus could manage. 

After Harry Potter's remarkable achievements on that holiday, Severus suspected that Voldemort rather lacked any appreciation for the Halloween festivities. 

Albus seemed pleased with the faculty's responses overall and clapped his hands together delightedly. "Fantastic! Now who shall we put in charge of the decorations and the entertainment?"

"How about the Prefects, Albus?" Juliet Sinistra suggested. "I'm sure they'd be able to manage it." 

"An excellent idea!" Albus agreed happily. Did the man have to be so disgustingly cheerful? Severus thought sourly. 

Ethan Rayne spoke up from his position sprawled across a chair in the corner, "And to make it more entertaining, how about making it a costume ball? It _is_ supposed to be for Halloween after all. I daresay that the students would get a kick out of it." 

Albus looked happier still if such a thing was possible. Severus made a mental note to poison Rayne. He knew Albus and dreaded what would inevitably be coming next.

"A splendid suggestion! We'll announce it to the students tomorrow. I think as it is to be for Halloween, we shall allow all years to attend." He paused, "Of course, all teachers must attend as well." There it was, his sentence of doom. Severus was glad to see that he wasn't the only one not looking forward to having to dress up. 

"That's settled then. Any other matters to take care of?" the headmaster asked, knowing very well that the meeting was nowhere near finished yet. Minerva took it upon herself to speak up, "There have been several complaints about Harry Potter. He seems to be turning into a juvenile delinquent; skipping classes, not turning in work, not wearing the proper uniform and hexing other students!" 

Albus stroked his beard thoughtfully; "I have had a talk with Miss Granger and Mr Weasley as well. They are most concerned, as am I."

Severus resisted the urge to guffaw, Albus Dumbledore concerned over a student's grades? He didn't think so. More like concerned over a certain students power levels. 

Minerva continued where she had left off, "This is not acceptable behaviour. Even with all that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, it's no excuse! I recommend that we strip him of his Prefect's badge." 

There were several agreements from other teachers who had been on the receiving end of Harry's behaviour. Severus simply smirked, did they really think that Harry gave a damn whether they let him keep his badge or not? 

"I think that's a little rash Minerva," Albus said soothingly, "It is only the start of term. He should only be issued a warning at this stage. With the tests coming up so soon... perhaps it would be best to wait until we see his results before meting out such a drastic punishment?"

Her lips thinned but she wouldn't go against the headmaster, "As you wish Albus."

"Though a talk with him may not go amiss? There may be something troubling him that is affecting his behaviour."

"I'll deal with it," she said. Albus nodded and looked around the lounge questioningly. "Anything else?" There was no answer. "Alright then. You were briefed on the tests over the summer so we won't go into any detail on them yet. That can wait for a few weeks. Meeting adjourned!"

Severus was one of the first out of the door; long stride carrying him swiftly to the dungeons. Blasted Dumbledore! Now he had to figure out what he was going to wear for that bloody ball! He had a feeling that Albus wouldn't let him get away with his normal attire, though it seemed to do such a good job of intimidating the students. Growling under his breath, he stormed into his quarters, how he hated staff meetings!

~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*

Harry looked up curiously as Dumbledore called for silence. "Students!" he exclaimed, "I have some wonderful news! Due to the success of past ventures, a Halloween Costume ball will be held this year. It is open to all years and the only stipulation is that you _must_ wear a costume! There will be a prize for the best one!" He had to stop there as the volume in the hall increased, the majority of the students expressing their delight at the idea. Harry's eyes dropped to his plate. His dinner suddenly looked less appetising. He really would have to keep an eye on Ethan. Many of the man's exploits had taken place at Halloween and the innocent face he was currently wearing wasn't exactly reassuring. 

The headmaster cleared his throat and the noise died down slowly, "Now the Prefects will be in charge of the decoration and entertainment, with the Head Boy and Girl responsible for the music so there will be a Prefects meeting tonight at seven o'clock! All ideas must be approved by a professor before implementation!" He sat down and continued to eat his dinner as the Prefects gasped in surprise. Harry groaned, it was going to be a _lot_ of work. And knowing the various houses, it would probably take them a few weeks to even agree on a design theme. More shouting matches with Malfoy. Oh joy. 

~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~**~**~*~*~*

Harry's dreams abruptly went from blissful blackness to acute agony. Ever muscle in his body had seized up from the intense pain flooding through his body. His head felt like it was about to crack open any second now and it was all he could do to curl into a foetal position in the bed, sweat beading on his skin. 

The vision took him over and he had no choice but to watch.

^^^^^^ Dream Sequence ^^^^^^^^^

Screams filled the air, penetrating the thick smoke from the fire. The house was burning, he could see it, orange-red flames shooting into the sky, creating an eerie light where they met the Dark Mark floating above the roof. 

Three figures lay on the ground, writhing under the Cruciatus curse. About a dozen Death Eaters were grouped around the place, some performing the torture, others disfiguring the land. There would be no doubts about who had caused it when the aurors arrived. And in the middle of it, swathed in black robes, red eyes glinting out of a skeletal face stood Voldemort, surveying the proceedings with a cruel smile. 

There was a flash of green light and another flash of pain ignited his scar. One of the unnamed figures had been killed. Walking closer, he got a look at their faces. He didn't recognise them but he did feel a flash of sympathy for them. They would be dead by morning, one already was. The eldest, an old woman in a flannel nightdress had been the victim of the Killing Curse. The remaining two were younger, maybe mid-forties – it was always hard to tell in the wizarding world. They had screamed themselves hoarse and were now whimpering as their muscles twitched and spasmed. The Cruciatus in Harry's opinion was the perhaps the worst of the Unforgivables, at least Avada Kedavra was quick. 

Judging by the fact that Voldemort remained aloof, this obviously wasn't an important target. More than likely, it was just some _fun_ for his Death Eaters. How nice. He was once again stuck on the sidelines, unable to do anything. If he hadn't liked staying idle before, then it had gotten worse since he had become the slayer. He really wished there was something he could do, or someone he could pummel but he had less substance than a ghost in these visions. All he ended up with was memories he didn't want and a very painful scar – or body in this case. 

He couldn't glean any useful information from this vision and the lack of knowledge frustrated him. Before Voldemort's second rising, he had only been dragged into the most important scenes. Nowadays he was getting pulled into them every night and the pain was becoming increasingly worse as they became more and more frequent. Finally, he was allowed escape from its clutches, back into the real world, where his own brand of horrors awaited him. 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

It was worse than crucio, worse than any pain he had experienced and he had experienced a lot. The pain probably would have driven him mad if he hadn't been the slayer. He didn't know how long he lay there, jaw clenched tightly shut - time had blurred into a never-ending haze of pain – when help came. A warm, soft _something_ curled up beside him and almost immediately the pain started to lessen. Heat radiated through his muscles, soothing them and making the pain go away. A comforting, calming trill started up, and gradually, his tense form relaxed. The extreme agony faded into a dull soreness that he could deal with; a few general healing potions from his stores would take care of it. 

He was exhausted, mentally and physically but curiosity out won the need for rest and he forced his eyes open. The strange song was still playing and he could now see its source. A glittering golden tail, red and gold plumage, a small head, delicate neck and black eyes. A phoenix or more precisely, Fawkes. 

"What?" he gasped, his mouth drier than a desert from holding his screams in. 

The majestic bird trilled at him and nuzzled its head against his neck. Harry's puzzlement increased, wasn't the bird supposed to be loyal to Dumbledore? Fawkes trilled at him again, this time almost demandingly and batted him with a wing. Harry thought he was trying to tell him something but how was he supposed to understand phoenix talk? – Wait a minute, he was a colossal idiot! One of his animagi forms was a phoenix! That spoke highly of his intelligence.

Body protesting at every movement, he sat up and morphed into his phoenix form. Fawkes trilled happily and Harry found that he could understand him now. ~Are you alright Fledgling?~ 

Harry blinked owlishly for a moment, ~I'm better now. Why did you come? Dumbledore is quickly becoming my enemy. Why help me?~ he asked.

~I do not agree with everything Albus does, especially some of the things concerning you. You are needed to set things right. I sensed it in the Chamber of Secrets.~

~Needed? That still doesn't explain things.~

~I have been here since the Founders themselves. I would not refuse aid to any student loyal to the school.~

~Loyal to the school? How would you know I was loyal? I'm not exactly the biggest fan of the headmaster.~

~But you love the school and would not allow harm to come to it. The slayer does not relinquish their territory easily.~

~Slayer? How in Merlin's name do you know that?!~

~Suffice it to say, a little bird told me.~ the old phoenix said amusedly. 

Harry groaned, ~That was a bad pun, a really bad one. Does that mean you're not going to tell me?~

~No hatchling, you will found out in time.~ Fawkes flicked his tail at Harry, ~Get some rest. You need to recover, little Fledgling.~

Harry reluctantly complied; his curiosity peaked and became human once more. He lay down and Fawkes curled up beside him and began to sing a haunting melody. Harry felt his eyes go heavy and within seconds he gave in to his body's demand for sleep.

~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~***

The traditional meeting place for the Prefects was a small lounge a few doors down from the staff room. Rumour had it that some prefects a few decades ago had hosted a huge party inside the old Prefects lounge and it had been going on for hours when they were finally caught. Ever since then, the teachers had made sure that such an incident wasn't going to be repeated. Privately, Harry felt that the unnamed former Prefects had the right idea but it wouldn't really be prudent to say that in front of some of the current ones. Though he had a feeling that Malfoy would agree if a Slytherin proposed it. He went out of his way not to agree with Harry – on anything.

The Head Girl, Cho Chang brought the meeting to order. "Listen up you lot! Professor Dumbledore is expecting us to plan the Halloween ball so we had better start thinking about how we're going to do it and who's going to do what!"

On a whim, Harry spoke up, "I can take care of the decorations," he offered. If _he_ couldn't create a properly spooky atmosphere, who could? Merlin knows he'd been in enough graveyards, tombs and scary places to last anyone a lifetime. 

Cho looked at him sternly, "All by yourself? It's a lot of work." 

"I can handle it. In fact I've got several ideas for it. I can pretty much guarantee an authentic bloodcurdling atmosphere."

"Okay then, Harry will do the decorating. What about the rest of you? David (The Head Boy) and I are in charge of the music but we still need people to decide about the food and drink. Not to mention we'll need people to put posters up after we decide when it's going to start and how long it's going to be. Somebody will have to make the stage too."

"Slytherin will take care of the stage, Chang." Malfoy drawled coldly. She glared at him but didn't argue. The Hufflepuffs swiftly agreed to cover the food end of things; nobody was willing to let Hermione near the House Elves. They didn't want her encouraging them into a rebellion. 

The Ravenclaws agreed to do the posters and Hermione became the liaison with the professors. She'd keep them informed as to how things are going. 

"Well that's it then!" David Gothby said, clapping his hands together and standing up. "I think that's everything covered so let's all get back to our dorms. Have plans drawn up in time for the next meeting!" The Prefects shuffled out and scattered back to their various houses. Hermione and Harry walked in an uncomfortable silence the whole way back and it came as a relief to both of them when they separated – Harry to his room and Hermione to the common room. 

~*~*~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~*~**~*

Like a few nights before, Harry escaped his room via the window, nimbly scaling the walls and darting into the Forbidden Forest. As before he avoided Hagrid, he still cared for the loveable half-giant but he talked too much. It was too easy to trick information out of him, especially if it was someone like Dumbledore trying. 

He vanished into the darkness between the vast trees. He had neglected to scout the forest before and he felt that it was high time he discovered what was lurking in its depths. 

~*~**~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~**~*

At the same time as Harry vaulted out his window, Draco Malfoy activated the portkey that would take him to the Riddle House. His father was surprisingly absent; usually he was here when Draco arrived. Instead, it was Wormtail who was waiting for him. 

"Follow me," he snapped, "Our Lord is waiting."

Draco obediently did as he was told; he had learned early on that it wasn't a good thing to keep the Dark Lord waiting. 

"Malfoy," he hissed, gesturing towards him, "Come here." Draco stepped forward slowly, kneeling down and kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes as was custom. He remained kneeling with his eyes on the floor until Voldemort deigned to address him.

"I have a job for you," he said, his cold voice sending chills down Draco's spine as Voldemort began pacing the room. He paused at a table and picked up a vial. He turned around, lifting the vial up and letting Draco see its contents. The liquid was silver, like mercury and moved continuously in the bottle. "This young Malfoy," Voldemort murmured, "Is the key to getting rid of the Potter brat. Once placed in food or drink, it is colourless, odourless, and tasteless. Completely undetectable. You will make sure Potter ingests this. At least once everyday. The vial is bottomless, you will never run out." 

Draco's breath quickened, "My Lord, how am I supposed to get Potter to take it? He will not accept anything from me." 

Voldemort growled in impatience, "And you call yourself a Slytherin?! I _know_ that it will be difficult but you'll manage it if you value your life...." He let the threat hang. The implication was clear. Draco would get the job done or he would die. 

"What will it do My Lord?" 

The question seemed to please Voldemort, as a twisted smile contorted his features. "It is one of my creations. It shall make Potter lose control of his temper; he won't be able to hold his anger in. All that anger will cause accidental magic to occur. He'll be volatile, unable to stop himself or keep a handle on his magic. Eventually Potter will do something drastic enough to warrant an expulsion and hopefully, a trip to Azkaban. Once he's out from Dumbledore's control, he's fair game. He will either join me as a faithful servant or join his parents in death. I would advise you not to annoy him Malfoy. You are still of use to me." 

"Yes My Lord."

Voldemort handed him the vial, "It has an unbreakable charm on it. Do not lose it. Remember the price for failure."

"I will succeed My Lord. I am most honoured to be chosen for this task."

"Just go!" 

Draco scurried out, clutching the vial in his hand and activated the portkey to return to Hogwarts as soon as he was outside the house. He carefully out the vial in his pocket before the world spun around him.

~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Harry exhaustedly made his way to his room. He was worn out from his nightly activities and the fact that he got very little sleep thanks to Voldemort didn't help him any. The forest had been teeming with all sorts of interesting creatures. Let's see, he'd had to defend himself from a pack of werewolves – seemingly they weren't any less rabid on a moonless night than they were when it was full. At least he hoped not, it had taken him nearly half an hour to fight them off and make sure they weren't tracking his scent. 

He'd ran into a few vamps, all of whom were now dust and he'd gotten an idea how many other species chose the forest for their home. He'd wanted to steer clear of the Acromantala colony but he'd had to let them know who was the boss. That meeting had gone only slightly better than the one in his second year. While they seemed to get the concept that he was _not_ food, prey or something to go up against, they still hated his guts. Aragog had definitely not welcomed his intrusion but had appeared to understand that Harry would get extremely testy if he didn't agree. 

Only those blasted centaurs had been able to evade him. Hagrid had been right, _never_ try and get a straight answer out of one. Then again, it was not like he'd been given _any_ answer. The one centaur he'd seen had scampered off fairly quickly. That meant that he'd have to go back and find them whenever he had time. A lovely night of looking at the stars and trying to decipher every word that came out of their mouths. Gee, why wouldn't he be looking forward to it? The only one who'd ever given him an understandable answer had been Firenze, so he'd just have to find him and hopefully, _hopefully_ get something useful out of him. 

The denizens of the wood had been warned. They knew that a slayer was guarding it now and that certain things would not be tolerated. He really didn't care if they decided to host a full-scale war in the forest as long as they left him alone whenever he ventured in and as long as they kept away from the castle and its grounds. He'd made it clear that they would be dead meat if they hurt any of the students or staff, and he wouldn't care if the hounds of hell themselves had chased them out of the forest. They were not to disobey the ground rules. 

If they disagreed, they'd have to take it up with him. It was an efficient system as none were going to try anything now. On the other hand, he didn't think he'd run so far in his life as he had tonight. Well, at least he'd gotten plenty of ideas for the Halloween ball. He wondered exactly how scared the partygoers would be when they saw his very realistic decorations. An evil smile creased his face; it was going to be fun. Without a doubt.

~*~**~*~*~**~**~*~**~*~**~**  
  


Angelus walked out of Heathrow Airport, coat hood pulled up to protect him from the rain. It had taken him days to find the identity of Drusilla's killer. He'd eventually found out that it was at the hands of the new slayer, who no one could name or describe. Angelus had pulled some strings, ie, fed on a few people from the Watchers' Council and gotten the information he needed. 

Imagine his surprise when he got the details on Slayer Jr. First, it was a boy, sixteen years old and vastly inexperienced compared to myself. Easy pickings or so he'd thought. He'd then found out that said Slayer was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and a wizard, currently studying at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

That had caused a few setbacks; the wards and protections surrounding Hogwarts were legendary. Once he'd found out about a certain professor teaching there though, things had begun to look up. Ethan Rayne might be annoying but he was easily bought and had free reign to wander in and out of the castle as he pleased. 

Ethan could get him in, he was sure of it. Also, he didn't think Ethan would turn his nose up at a spot of mischief either. All he had to do was send him a message and ask for a meeting. The wizard's curiosity would take it from there. He wasn't too far from Diagon Alley. He'd get a room nearby and sneak into the post office when it was beginning to get dark. It was far too late to do so now, all the shops would be closed. Well, except for Knockturn Alley but he didn't think they dealt with post owls. He'd probably be able to find a snack there however. 

~*~*~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~**~*~*~*

Firenze looked up towards the sky, echoing the movements of the other centaurs around him. "The heavens are crowded tonight."

"And Mars is bright again," Bane said sorrowfully, "War comes."

"It was decreed many years ago," Dido, a female centaur said, "We have known it was coming but it is only now that things are moving into position."

"Will she be able to handle the burden?" Firenze wondered, "She's so young."

"Not so young in mind." Ronan interjected, "The Potter boy will come soon, seeking answers." He added, changing the subject.

"That he will and he shall receive them. Though when he shall understand them is not ours to say." 

"The Lightning shall know what to do. It has been written in prophecy, amongst the stars themselves."

"We shall wait. Time shall unfold the answers," Dido said, lying down in the long grass and making herself comfortable. They always took such a long time debating things. "For now, we rest. We can do no more until he approaches us."

~*~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*

Harry studied the blade in his hand. Its twin lay on the table in front of him. He had almost forgotten about them and only when he went to get something from the secret compartment in his trunk had he noticed them, still snugly resting in his holsters. 

The minute he had set eyes on him, the initial fascination he had felt in Borgin and Burkes had returned full force. Now that he had more time to spend looking at them, he could see that the craftsmanship was absolutely exquisite. Every scale on the snake's body was done in perfect detail. It was a true work of art and the matching dagger was no less grand. The emerald eyes seemed to flicker with a life of their own, eerily reminding him of the carved serpents in the Chamber of Secrets. 

Like before, the snake moved, its head rising from its place on the hilt until it was looking directly at Harry. "Massster," it hissed, "What isss your name?" 

Harry had been expecting something like this but it was still a bit of a shock, "My name isss Harry," he hissed back, "Why do you call me massster?" 

"Becaussse you ssspeak the Ssserpents' Tongue. We have been waiting for you."

"Huh? Waiting for me? What do you mean?" he asked quizzically.

"For many yearsss have I waited to be reclaimed." The little snake answered. 

"Reclaimed?"

The other dagger seemed to wake up and flicked its tongue at Harry, "We were lossst and now we have been returned. It hasss been an age sssince we have seen Hogwartsss again."

"You've been here before?"

"Sssalazar created usss here." The first snake answered. 

"Sssalazar? Sssalazar Ssslytherin!" Harry exclaimed, oh Merlin, what were the odds?

"Yesss. In hisss chamber. He created many of our kind."

"Really? Many daggersss? Why would he do that?"

"Not daggersss. Sssnakes like usss." 

"Why?"

"Becaussse only he could talk to usss. We would never betray Sssalazar." 

Harry rubbed a hand across his forehead, hands moving to gently massage his temples. "Okay, ssso he made a lot of you guysss. Where did they all end up and how on earth did I end up with hisss possssessssionsss?!"

"They are in the Chamber, around the ssschool. They are everywhere, put there for the ussse of hisss heirs. We could ssssense you. We knew you can talk to usss." 

"Ssso the anssswersss are in the Chamber of Sssecretsss?" Harry asked. The snakes agreed. "I've been down there and there wasss nothing but the Basssilisssk and a lot of ssslime."

"Sssalazar did not leave his worksss in plain view. He hid them, with the Basssilisssk, Aresss as their guardian."

"Aresss?"

"It isss the name of the King of Ssserpentsss."

"Riiiiight."

"Ssseek your anssswersss in the Chamber, young massster." They told him before resuming their previous positions on the dagger and becoming silent once more, leaving Harry to stare at them for a few moments before putting them back into their holsters. Oh, the possibilities such knowledge had! Surely Slytherin would have left something more than weapons down there, perhaps more information on his personal projects and research. Harry was still reading the books he had found, and the spells and facts in them were incredible. But if there was more... Maybe, just maybe Harry could find something to get rid of Voldemort once and for all.

*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ethan paid the owl and untied the roll of parchment from its leg. Who would write to him? Breaking the wax seal on the note, he looked at the flowing, old-fashioned script.

_Ethan Rayne,_

_I have heard that you are teaching at Hogwarts this year. And let's just say that I'm well aware of your reputation, especially in Sunnydale. If I'm right, I'd say that you have a thorn in your side with the title of Vampire Slayer. Namely one Harry Potter._

_This Potter staked my childe, now I'd like some payback. Of course as I'm of the demonic variety, gaining entrance to the castle is going to take some work. That's what I need you for. I wish to arrange a meeting in Hogsmeade. You'll be notified as to when. _

_I'm sure you're aware of my reputation. Don't make me hunt you down and kill you. I do have other business to attend to._

_Angelus,_

_The Scourge of Europe._

Ethan's meal suddenly looked rather unappetising. Why oh why did he have to be roped into this? Although if he played his cards right he just might get some monetary benefit from this. Nah, who was he kidding? He'd consider himself lucky if he got out alive. 

*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~*~*

Harry slid down the pipe, thankfully having remembered to cast a scouring charm before he jumped into the tube. His boots crunched a few skulls and he looked down in distaste. Waving his hand, he made the small skeletons disappear and cast a strong cleaning charm for good measure. If he was going to spend a lot of time here then he may as well make it somewhat presentable.

Reaching the area, where Lockhart caused the cave-in, he repaired it and continued on until he was in the room with the statue of Salazar Slytherin. And suddenly he understood. The Chamber of Secrets was his haven, his sanctuary. It called to him, welcomed him into its protective shelter.

The chamber was surprisingly bare, the corpse of the Basilisk having disappeared. The room had probably been grand once, with its towering stone pillars and carved serpents. He gingerly explored the room, wary of any traps Slytherin may have set for intruders. 

He tried a few revealing spells to see if there were any illusions or wards covering a door or something. Nothing happened. Well, scratch that then.

His senses came alert suddenly; there was something in the chamber with him. Turning around slowly, he promptly fell on his rump as he looked into bulbous yellow eyes. A basilisk, the very same basilisk that Harry had stabbed with a sword and killed was looking at him. They had locked eyes and for some unknown reason Harry wasn't dead or petrified. He quickly flipped to his feet and his fest clenched around the stake he had pulled from the waistband of his trousers. If he could take down the giant snake as a scrawny twelve year old, he most certainly could repeat the performance now! Hopefully without Fawkes having to heal him. 

Harry took a few steps backwards as the Basilisk came towards him. He really didn't know what to make of this; he knew he had killed it in second year! What in Merlin's name was going on?!

Remembering what the dagger-snake had told him, he hissed at the basilisk. "Aresss. I will not harm you if you do not harm me."

The colossal serpent cocked its head, as if puzzled, "I do not want to harm you young massster."

Harry gaped with his mouth open for a moment before closing it with a snap. "How come your gaze didn't kill me?"

"Becaussse I didn't want it too and becaussse of who you are."

"You mean the ssslayer thing?"

"Partly." Ares answered. 

Harry lowered the stake but kept it within easy reach. "I killed you. How can you ssstill be here?" He said, asking the question that was bugging him the most. 

"The lassst heir placed protectionsss on me. They knew you would come."

"Voldemort?!" 

"He isss not the lassst heir. He isss not even a heir."

"What?!" Surely he couldn't have heard that right.

"The Dark Lord hasss never been Sssalazar'sss heir. The Lady holdsss that title and ssshe isss the lassst." Ares explained.

Harry's mind was reeling. All that time the git wasn't even Slytherin's Heir! Harry had had to put up with all that boasting and it wasn't even true! 

Ares slithered forward, "My gaze isss sssafe only for you and any you deem worthy. The Dark Lord controlled an illusssion. I do not follow hisss bidding. My loyalty isss with you."

"Ssso if dear old Voldie is not the heir. Who isss?" He hoped that they weren't the wannabe-ruler-of-the-world type. 

"The Lady will reveal herssself to you in time. Ssshe hasss her own agenda and doesss not follow the Dark Lord."

"Why did you only ssshow yourssself now? Wouldn't it have been easssier to tell me all thisss at the beginning? Like in ssssecond year?"

"Would you have believed me?"

"Good point." He thought for a minute, debating over whether or not to trust Ares and finally decided to give him a chance. "Tell me, did Ssslytherin keep anything down here? Sssuch asss booksss or trinketsss?"

Harry could have sworn the basilisk was smirking at him, if snakes could smirk. "He did but you will not find them yet. The time isss not yet right."

"And when _will_ it be right?" Harry snapped irritably. 

"You'll know when it isss young massster." Ares hissed, already slithering away into the depths of the chamber. "You will know."

"Well, that was helpful," Harry muttered and then caught sight of the time. Damn it! He was going to be late for Divination if he didn't hurry up, and after getting up extra early and all! He stalked off and from the shadows, two sets of eyes watched...

~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~~

Trelawney hadn't changed much. She still burned too much incense, overdid the dramatics and kept on predicting his death. Of course, the rumours floating around the school gave her ample inspiration and now his imminent turning to the dark side was another of her favourite 'predictions', if they could laughingly be termed that. 

He sank back into the large chintz armchair at the back of the room, intent on getting in a nap instead of listening to Professor I-Am-A-Fake Trelawney ramble on. The Gryffindors had class with the Slytherins this year, much to his housemates' disgust. Harry didn't really mind as long as they left him alone. After his summer activities he had a whole new set of ideas for gruesome deaths. Trelawney'd be pleased at any rate.

He could skate by without too much trouble so he was content to relax and use the time to scheme. Knowing Trelawney, he could pass off any glazed look he might acquire as a form of Divination. Mention anything bloody with a high body count and she was in ecstasy.  

From across the room, Draco Malfoy discreetly kept his eyes locked on the infamous Boy-Who-Lived. This was his one chance to carry out his Master's orders but if Potter caught wind of what he was doing, he wasn't quite sure he'd make it out alive. The now not so Golden boy had developed a serious attitude problem over the summer and combined with the potion's effects, he couldn't be too careful. 

Cautiously moving the tip of his wand out from under the table, he pointed it at the stick of incense on the table in front of Potter. Firmly grasping an identical stick in his other hand, he muttered a few well-chosen words and instantaneously the two sticks switched places. Quickly casting a spell to light the scented wood, he followed it up with a containment charm to make sure the smoke from the scented wood was only breathed in by Potter.

Draco had coated the entire stick with the potion, mentally clapping himself on the back for such an ingenious idea. Potter may be powerful but he wouldn't expect an _incense stick_ to attack him of all things! Satisfied that his task was done for now, he settled into his customary half-doze for the rest of the class.

Harry couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before! The Sorting Hat! It had helped him in his second year, along with Fawkes. Gryffindor's sword had fallen out of the hat. If the much abused and battered headpiece could conceal that, then surely it would have something else of value. Whether it be in objects or information. It had said at every Sorting that it had been around since the Founder's time; it must have some unknown knowledge about them! Who knows what secrets it knew? And Harry was willing to bet that no one had ever asked it for such a thing before! 

Naturally, there was one teeny little problem with that plan. The bloody thing was tucked away in Dumbledore's office and as much luck as he had had avoiding the old coot so far this year, he had a feeling that getting in there undetected would not be an easy thing to do.

Still, he knew he was on to something. He _had_ to this! And he would, all that was needed was a little bit of cunning. A rather large distraction would be needed to keep Dumbledore out of his office for a reasonable amount of time but he was sure he could manage it. It wouldn't take too much to get most of, maybe even the entire faculty away from Bumblebore's office. Maybe he could let loose some Dementors? Nah, they affected him too much for comfort. Perhaps a few Death Eaters or trolls. He'd think of something given time. He didn't worry about Fawkes, as he was pretty sure the phoenix wouldn't give him away. 

He snapped back to attention when the class began whispering to each other in what seemed like... _excitement_. In _Trelawney's_ class? Lavender and Parvati were practically bouncing in anticipation. 

"Yes," the Divination professor continued, drawing Harry's attention as he tried to figure out what was going on. "Of course, she wasn't as talented as myself. Her sight was quite clouded, the poor thing." Harry snorted softly, /less talented than Trelawney? I didn't think there was such a thing./ he thought to himself. "However, she did make one prediction that seemed true enough. At this school in fact! She gave it during dinner while I still studied here. It caused quite a stir. Not many actually understood what she said though. It was such a pity. I was thinking of giving her a hand but she just wasn't good enough to be a true Seer, like I am. But I mentioned her to give some background information on those who show some talent but don't have the ability. I didn't hear all of it myself and she refused to repeat it but from what I can remember it was just some raving about lightning. Nevertheless, I foresee that many hear would not be able to tell a fraud when you see one. I want a three-foot essay on the different ways to tell a True Seer from a false one. Class dismissed."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~~*

Harry had been on the way to lunch when McGonagall waylaid him and dragged him across the castle to her office, quite near to the Transfiguration classroom but a long way from the North Tower. So that was how he ended up here, seated in front of his Head of House's desk, wondering why she was scowling at him now. 

"We need to have a talk about your change of attitude young man." McGonagall said, pacing around her office.

Harry suppressed to urge to sigh, so _that_ was what he was here for. Funny, he would have thought that Dumbledore would have come to reprimand his wayward charge instead of the stern Professor McGonagall.

"We do not tolerate your type of attitude at Hogwarts, Mr Potter. You are very close to having your Prefect badge stripped from you." She halted in front of him, obviously expecting an answer. But Harry remained stubbornly silent.

"Is there any particular reason for this turn around in behaviour, Mr Potter?" she demanded.

Again there was silence. 

Eventually growing tired of his lack of answers, she settled for launching into a lengthy tirade that lasted for half an hour. He was then unceremoniously thrown out the door and warned that if he stepped the slightest bit out of line, he would have detention until he graduated. Wow, what a threat, he couldn't help thinking as he hurried off to try and get some food before lunch was over.

*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

_Later that evening. Around seven o'clock._

Harry could barely stop himself from smirking as he saw who the esteemed duelling teachers would be. Ethan Rayne teaching somebody how to duel? Yeah right, the man preferred the good ol' double-crossing and running side of things instead of the actually staying to fight scenarios. Though the other two; Professor Snape and the special guest star Mad-Eye Moody were well able to defend themselves. 

Harry wondered exactly who was going to be the demonstration pair. He could just imagine Moody, the paranoid ex-auror versus Snape, the Death Eater turned spy. That would be something to witness. He could just see the fireworks. Even now they were glaring at each other. He remembered Barty Crouch Jr's impression of Moody and his pestering of Snape; somehow he had a feeling that Crouch had portrayed Moody's feelings to perfection. 

The three professors started lecturing on the basics of duelling, namely the Disarming and Stunning curses. All of which Harry could perform in his sleep. He only paid attention when Moody announced that there would be some freestyling before they started teaching them advanced curses and hexes, to see what they were capable of and split them into groups accordingly. 

They were allowed shoot any legal curses they knew but no physical contact was allowed. So no resorting to simply punching them then. Harry really felt like baring his teeth, it would probably scare them half to death and then he wouldn't even have to raise his wand. Snape and Rayne started wading through the crowd of sixth years, pairing up. Unfortunately for Harry, Rayne was feeling particularly vindictive and paired him with Ronald Weasley. Probably the last person Harry would have picked to duel against him.

It wasn't because he was mad at Ron, especially considering their fight in Gryffindor Tower, or because Ron had been trying to usurp him in everything. No, it was because he wouldn't even be decent competition. Ron was famous for his temper and Harry knew him well; he didn't think things through, jumped headfirst into everything, mouthed off about things he didn't understand, scraped through his exams thanks to Hermione and didn't have any power with which to back himself up. Ron was an average wizard at best, a fact that he hated, considering all his elder brothers had outstripped him, whether it be through grades, popularity, creativeness or ambition. 

Ron would undoubtedly step into this duel with a chip on his shoulder and with something to prove. And Harry would have to deal with his wounded ego. He thought that was plenty of reasons not to be looking forward to this. Ethan was going to pay for this. He just knew that the man had done it deliberately. 

His suspicions about his ex-best friend were confirmed when he stomped over to him. Harry thought he could make out some steam rising from underneath that mop of red hair. He must be really mad, he thought vaguely. They both settled into the traditional duelling positions, wands raised in front of them like swords. "You are going down, Potter," Ron snarled, his red face matching his hair in his fury.

Harry simply arched an eyebrow; he had duelled with Lord Voldemort himself. Did he seriously think that one over-emotional sixteen year old was going to beat him? Well, Harry was going to strip him of that delusion pretty quickly.

On the raised dais, Rayne said the starting words, "Everybody! Begin!"

Immediately curses were being flung around the room, most harmless but there were a few advanced hexes bouncing around, mostly being thrown by the Slytherins and they were taking down quite a few hapless students. 

Harry was going easy on Ron, throwing a few minor spells and generally flustering the taller boy. Ron was easily getting more and more angry, his face now resembled an overripe tomato and if he'd been steaming before it was nothing compared to how he was now. Barely dodging Harry's bombardment, he settled back on one thing he was familiar with – insults. 

"Where'd you learn all this Potter?" he gasped, "Death Eater training camp?" 

"No, I didn't go there," Harry replied coolly, "I went to the Evil Overlord training centre." 

"Of course you did. Probably learned under You-Know-Who himself. Wonder what your parents would say about that?"

Harry knew that he was only saying it to get under his skin but despite his best efforts, he could feel his temper start to come to the surface. No, no keep your cool Harry, he told himself; you _so_ do not want to do anything to attract attention. You're in deep enough trouble as it is.

Ron fired a Disarming curse at the raven-haired boy, who nimbly dodged it, "Tell me Potter, are the accommodations in Azkaban as nice as I hear? You should probably find out since you'll be going there shortly."

"Shut up Weasel. Don't get me started on you, 'cos I think I can sum it up in one word – moron."

"At least I don't kiss You-Know-Who's robes, acting like a dog!" 

"Does the word 'spider' mean anything to you? Considering you're scared to death of them, give me one good reason why I shouldn't transfigure you into one right now!"

Harry's vision was taking on a decidedly red tint, as the blood pounded in his temples. Weasley was deliberately pushing him, evidently itching for a confrontation. Well he was going to get it. He decided to step up the pace and strength of his hexes. He had to enjoy this now, as it was very likely that he would not get another chance – not if the redhead was smart at least.

"Reducto!" he whispered, pointing his wand at the ground beneath Ron's feet. Instantly, the stone heaved and cracked, tremors running through the room like aftershocks. Ron hurriedly backed away from the newly created abyss in front of him and in his haste he tripped over someone's robes and fell to the floor, causing a domino effect to occur throughout the hall.

As people fell or were knocked down, hexes and curses intended for them hit other people, who were often caught unawares. This caused them to think the other person was cheating and pretty soon the hall rang with the sounds of accusations and spellcasting.

The professors tried to find out what was going on but they were stuck on the raised dais and the students wouldn't listen to them. Soon, the sparring matches had turned into full-fledged duelling with some serious intent behind it. Spells fly awry here, there and everywhere and the situation became a full-out brawl. 

In one corner of the room stood Harry, on one side of the abyss he'd created. Deciding that it was too dangerous to leave it there with all the fighting going on, he fixed the rift, leaving the stone floor looking like it had never been hit with the spell at all. Ron had, as predicted, scuttled away without even giving Harry time to properly hex him. It was so unfair.

Taking a moment to evaluate the current state of affairs, he searched for the teachers only to find out that Snape and Moody were holding a duel themselves and Rayne seemed to be cowering under the table. How predictable. 

Well, with the racket that everybody was causing, the other teachers and the headmaster would no doubt be alerted of the situation and Harry so did not want to be here to take the blame. Slinking into the shadows between the lit torches and candles, he cast a charm to conceal his actions and morphed into his snidget animagus form. Being so small, he was sure that no one would be able to see him. Beating his little wings, he took off for the small window that the owls came through every day. 

Passing Ron on the way out, he smirked and cast a nifty little spell he knew. Even in animagus form it with no wand, it wasn't that hard to do. Two seconds later screams rang out as Ron tried to run away from the recently conjured Acromantala. The giant spider was an illusion but the Gryffindor Keeper didn't know that. He'd be in fits of laughter if he were actually in human form, as it was he was chirping. Flying at the speed of a golden snitch or snidget, he was soon moving through the night air outside the castle.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Severus didn't know how it had come to this. One minute he was surveying the sparring students, making mental notes on their abilities when it had quickly spun out of his control. Within two minutes mock-battles had turned into real ones and the professors hadn't been able to regain that control. They had eventually been forced to seek refuge under one of the tables, much to his chagrin.

Moody, being the over-paranoid auror he was, had immediately placed all the blame on Severus and Ethan Rayne. Rayne had quietly slipped away and left the Potions Master to deal with it. Moody hadn't wasted time and had started firing curses at him. Naturally, Severus had retaliated and they hadn't let up since. 

Suddenly the two main doors banged open with tremendous force, slamming the wooden panels into the unforgiving stone walls. Dumbledore and the rest of the faculty poured into the room and tried to sort things out. The headmaster seeing their failure, placed the sonorous charm on himself and yelled for everyone to stop.

His voice reverberated through the hall and everyone came to a screeching halt, fear etched on some faces as they realised who had spoken.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!" Dumbledore raged, furious about the turn of events. The other teachers were scowling fiercely, some looking quite shell-shocked. "Two hundred points from each house! I cannot express my disappointment in you. You  are supposed to be mature young adults, not juvenile delinquents! Appropriate punishments shall be given later. Now get back to your dormitories and stay there! Your Heads of House will be around to deal with you later." 

His tone was so stern and his face so grave that there was a near stampede for the doors as the students rushed out under the glaring eyes of the teachers. But Dumbledore wasn't finished. After the last student had fled, he turned to the dais, "You three," he said, pointing at Moody, Severus and Ethan, "My office. Now!" It wasn't a request and he did not sound pleased or the least bit forgiving. It was going to be a long, long night.

~*~*~*~**~~*~**~~**~*~*~**~~*

Draco Malfoy felt a fission of excitement shoot up his spine. The potion must have worked! He had seen Potter send the Weasel screaming. This news had to be reported to his master. Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill, he penned a short note, wanting to get it done before the teachers came in to reprimand Slytherin House. 

_My Lord,_

_The potion has been successfully administered. I witnessed the first effects tonight during a Duelling class. Potter started off a brawl amongst the students and took great pleasure in tormenting Ronald Weasley, his ex-best friend. I shall keep you updated on my progress and the results. _

_Your loyal servant,_

_Draco Malfoy._

He signed it with a flourish and gave it to his eagle owl. The owl was especially charmed so as not to give away the recipient or sender's location. Dumbledore couldn't track it. The owl soared off to its destination and Draco settled into the common room, awaiting whoever was coming to punish the sixth years.

*~*~*~*~~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The Order of the Phoenix convened after Dumbledore had severely lectured the three duelling professors. The headmaster addressed the order members, "Tonight's incident shows that he has clearly gotten out of hand. Mr Weasley is claiming he tried to blow him up using the Reducto curse and several witnesses support him. He has become a danger and must be dealt with. I suggest that we move up our plans and perform the ritual immediately. Any opposed?" he questioned.

No hands were raised and no objections issued. At the far end of the table, Severus bit his tongue. There was no use in arguing with Albus, he always won and would go through with his tactics anyway.

Dumbledore nodded his head and stood, "Then we go ahead as planned. He's been let loose for far too long already. I will acquire the orb. Everyone else already knows their part. When it's done, we shall have enough leverage and power to get rid of Voldemort once and for all."

"What about the price, Albus?" Professor Sprout asked.

His features looked as though they were carved from stone, "We do what we must. Whatever the cost."

~*~*~***~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~***~*~*~*~**~

A/N: Please review! Pleeeeeease!


	4. The Slayer's Hunter

History Repeats Itself by Asha Dreamweaver

**_Disclaimer_**_:_ I own nothing but the plot.

**_Author's Notes_****:** Thank you, thank you, thank you! I am so pleased you reviewed – and also kind of hyper but that's not unusual. I'm so glad that people seem to like my fic! By the way the riddle in this chapter comes from 'The Hobbit' by JRR Tolkien. Sadly, it isn't mine. 

And now for the response to reviews: - 

_KoKorean_ – Yes, I do know slayers are only girls. I believe I mentioned that Harry was the first boy to be called ever in chapter one. Call it artistic licence, okay?

_Tom_ – I'll have to check out that site you gave me the link to. I am not entirely clear on the concept of a Mary Sue but I think they are generally all-powerful, sickeningly good, original female characters. But I can truthfully state that the female character I'm hinting at is not a Mary Sue or an original character. Hope that clears up your concerns! :)

_Fair Lady Ravenclaw_ – Thank you for putting me on your favourites list! That makes about four now! What an honour! And yes, he is going back in time.

_Prophetess of Hearts_ – Don't worry they'll get what's coming to them eventually.

_Koko_ – What would be the fun in giving Harry a warning? Even if it was from Sev?

_tima_ – Thanks for adding me to your favourites! I'm deliriously happy!

_downa$$_ - Voldie's potion? Harry not affected? I think you might have made a teeny mistake there. Harry was and is affected. Expect bigger blow-ups in the future! *Laughs evilly*. And as for the strange lady, do you really think I'm going to tell you? You'll just have to wait and see. About the snakes following Harry, he _is_ a Parselmouth.

_Katherine_ – The ritual Dumbledore is talking about going to hurt Harry? Hmmmm. Well, let's just say it's not going to be pleasant. Will Angel get into Hogwarts? Count on it. As for the prophecy, I'm not telling. Does Voldemort know about the Slayers? No, but by the time this fic is finished, he most definitely will. The Lady will be explained in time. Will Sev tell Dumbledore about Harry? Not a chance, let's just say that Sev doesn't exactly trust the headmaster. The 'she' the centaurs are talking about will again be explained in time. Spike's not coming into this fic and Faith was killed – she was the slayer before Harry. Harry will be going back through time around chapter five thereabouts. So not long to go! And of course, Dru is insane. Thanks for reviewing!

Thanks to all the others who reviewed chapter 3 – 

Scrat

Luna the Moonmonster

~Mary~ 

Silver Earth Dragon

RookRaven

UniversalStar87

Melissa

desertwren

Kaat ShadowLover

Orion

pottersevfan 

Kate

Joe

Seer_cassandra

Arizosa

Ashley 

Starkitty

ExCaLiBeR

blackunicorn

I really hope I haven't missed anyone but those are the people who reviewed before I posted the fic. If you reviewed after I posted this, I'll give you a mention in the next chapter! :) Continue reviewing!

And now on with the fic...

**Chapter 4: The slayer's hunter **

Harry staggered out of the Transfiguration classroom, along with the other sixth years. The day had been an absolute nightmare. The entire castle had been woken up by a loud clanging bell and all the students had been herded into the Great Hall, bleary-eyed and half-asleep. They had been informed that they would all have to take the M.A.Ts, also known as the Magical Aptitude Tests that day by decree of the Ministry of Magic. 

The announcement had caused instant panic, it seemed that not even the influential families had gotten warning about it. The Ravenclaws had flown into a series of panic attacks and amongst the Gryffindors Hermione Granger did the same. A test that they couldn't study for?! To them, it was unheard of. Everyone else had been surprised at the news, annoyed at the early hour and had dreaded the tests. 

The sixth years had been led out of the hall by Professor McGonagall after a quick breakfast and sequestered in the Transfiguration classroom. They were told to sit down and so they scrambled to get a desk away from the stern old witch. The minute they had taken their seat, the pre-charmed furniture erected a silencing spell and a stack of parchment appeared. They were given the go ahead to start and began leafing through the many, many pages of questions and tasks. 

Some of it was like a Muggle IQ test. Namely, basic mathematics, language (English and Latin), spatial relations (The ability to see things in three dimensions), spelling, mechanical reasoning (Mostly physics and mechanics) and abstract reasoning (Seeing patterns in sets of pictures). 

Then it moved onto the magical side of things. They were given philosophical questions about the nature of magic and its capabilities and limits. There were entire sections dedicated to each of their classes, both written and practical.  

As they progressed through the tests, any needed equipment like cauldrons and such appeared without prompting for their use. It was mentally exhausting and Harry had a cramp in his hand after the first hour from all the writing. He'd had to cast a charm on the quill to turn it from an ordinary one to a dictation-quill. He'd just had to make sure that he didn't use any inappropriate language or else he'd have McGonagall or someone giving him grief over it. 

The tests lasted from breakfast to lunch. A solid five hours. They had an hour's break then until they had to go back for part two. He'd shovelled food into his mouth while watching the rather amusing antics of the Ravenclaws and Hermione, all of whom were buried in stacks of books and frantically trying to predict what they would quiz them on next. The other students were bemoaning their fate and wondering what in Merlin's name had possessed the Ministry to subject them to this new torture.

Unluckily, the next round was even more exhausting than the last. Not only did they have yet another pile of parchment to slog their way through but they also had to complete an obstacle course that incorporated all aspects of their Hogwarts education, or so they said. All in all, that particular test bore too much resemblance to the third task of the TriWizard tournament for his liking. 

They were to go in one by one at ten-minute intervals. Apparently the course had been spelled so that the students couldn't meet up. Finally it had been Harry's turn – they had been sending them inside in alphabetical order so he'd been pretty far back as he was a 'P'.

He'd cautiously approached the non-descript brown door, he wouldn't put anything past that conniving Dumbledore though at this rate he probably resembled old Mad-Eye when it came to paranoia. 

The minute he'd crossed the threshold, he found himself in a replica of the Triwizard maze from two years ago. Damn that man, he had to give Dumbledore points for sheer gall but did he have to go out of his way to make his life difficult?

Now he had a whole new set of problems to contend with. Not only did he have to get out of this blasted labyrinth – preferably without serious bodily harm, but now he had to be wary of Dumbledore and his cronies. The tests were supposedly Ministry-run, meaning he couldn't afford to slip up there either. If he breezed through the maze then it would raise questions, questions that he couldn't answer but on the other hand, he had already proved himself to be at a certain level of power while he was still Dumbledore's little Golden Boy Gryffindor, it would be suspicious if he didn't live up to the power that they knew he was capable of. Merlin! All the variables were giving him a headache. 

Already working himself up into a foul temper – one that he felt justified in – he stomped through the maze, using the point me spell to find the centre of the web of hedges. The first thing he encountered was a boggart, which was swiftly dispatched. He just didn't have the patience to deal with a Dementor at the moment. The next few obstacles were garden-variety creatures taught in Defence Against the Dark Arts, annoying little nuisances that were disposed of quickly. He made sure to let the Kappa get the upper hand on him for a minute, he knew there were people watching and he wasn't about to perform.

He came face to face with a sphinx; really they were getting predictable! Or perhaps Dumbledore had finally lost his remaining marbles. The similarity with the third task couldn't be denied in any way, shape or form. He guessed that there were certain precautions taken for the continued survival of the students. He spared a thought for the other students and snickered, oh wouldn't the first years have fun with this? Madame Pomfrey would probably have to deal with around a hundred fainting spells or heart attacks, not to mention the inevitable scrapes, gashes and wounds that the other students would undoubtedly acquire. It would be jam-packed and a place to avoid.

The sphinx didn't seem inclined to let him by and insisted that he would have his innards ripped out if he tried to get past her without answering her riddle. Females! He'd never understand them. You'd think they'd let a bloke off once in a while but noooo! 

She practically purred the riddle, resting her head on her front paws and staring at him with large chocolate brown eyes, "It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,

Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt,

It lies behind stars and under hills,

And empty holes it fills.

It comes first and follows after,

Ends life, kills laughter."

Harry stared at her for a moment, brain whirring to figure out the answer. He thought he had it but he needed to hear it again to be sure. Upon his asking, she repeated it and he felt confident that he was right. And well, if he wasn't, he was a fast runner. "It's the Dark," he answered.

She blinked at him before smiling, "Correct. You may pass," she said, stepping aside. He travelled down the narrow passage that she had been blocking and found himself in the centre of the maze. In the very centre of the square space was a podium with a piece of parchment stuck to it firmly. 

Careful not to touch anything, he read the writing. "Halfway you have gone yet the journey remaining is still long. To escape the maze you must go northwest and seek the passage through the gate." 

Well, that was helpful. Using the 'Point me' spell again, he figured out which way was northwest and took off in that direction. Two minutes later, he was ambushed by furniture with wings that was trying to bash into him and so far succeeding. Waving his wand, he aimed it at the nearest piece and said, "Incendio!" The table went up in flames. Repeating his actions until all the wooden objects had turned to ash, he gingerly inspected his now purple-black body. The bruises would be gone within fifteen minutes but they made him look quite pathetic at that time. He hated that but it solidified his position and the safety of his secret.

After fending off a few more attacks, ambushes and nasty surprises, he believed that he'd found the gate. Of course, said gate was being guarded by Voldemort's identical twin. He recognised it a realistic illusion but still it was guaranteed that only the Death Eater supporters would dare to approach the fake Dark Lord. 

He looked damn scary; red eyes, skull like features, slits for a nose, bald and clad all in black while holding his wand and leering menacingly. It was like an upgraded version of Snape's prized death glare. 

Still, he'd seen it all before. His scar didn't even twinge this time round. Since an illusion couldn't cast a spell, Harry held the advantage here. Since the Voldemort look-alike was standing directly in front of the exit, Harry would just have to go through him. 

Voldemort hissed threateningly but it didn't faze him one bit. He just stepped right through his body and grasped the doorknob. Instantly, he was back in the Transfiguration classroom. McGonagall looked surprised but recovered quickly and barked for him to sit down. Apparently he was the first and only sixth year to finish on his own, without needing assistance or medical attention. Though no one was talking to him, he could hear the various conversations perfectly. Rumour had it that Neville collapsed in a faint the minute he stepped into the maze. And that was just so typically Neville that Harry couldn't even attempt to believe that the gossip wasn't true. It was dinnertime when they were all allowed leave. The students hadn't been allowed to go to Madame Pomfrey for their scratches and abrasions until after dinner. And as Harry expected, there was a near stampede to the Hospital Wing. He could also hear stomachs grumbling in synch with his own. 

So that was why he was currently starving, worn out and cranky. Inwardly laughing as Dean and Seamus supported an unconscious Ron with a battered looking Hermione trailing behind them, he went to get something to eat.

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

Whilst eating, he planned his Halloween costume. He really wanted to be original. Harry figured if he was going to have to play dress up, he might as well have some fun with it. He ran through an extensive list of options, disregarding some and considering others. 

Keeping his decorations in mind, something that would scare the hell out of people seemed like the best bet and he had the perfect costume in mind, one that would be the equivalent of giving the finger to Dumbledore. 

After all, the similarities between himself and Tom Riddle had been up for discussion on numerous occasions. He may as well use them to his advantage. He could just imagine the Slytherin's expressions – and Snape's and Malfoy's in particular – when he walked into the hall dressed as the Heir of Slytherin. 

A few little touches and a change of eye colour and Harry Potter would become the younger version of the Dark Lord Voldemort. It was sure to be a showstopper. If he played his cards right, he could get people to believe he really was the Dark Lord. It was a pity that they had to wear masks until eleven so that the costumes could be judged for a competition but it would increase the element of surprise. And if he got it just right, he would make it a Halloween to remember. 

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

The summons came unexpectedly. A short note telling him to either be at the Shrieking Shack at eight o'clock that evening or lose several pints of blood. Unsurprisingly, Ethan made sure to be there and even arrived early. His previous experiences with the vampire were limited to Angel, the souled version of the infamous demon. Of Angelus, he had only heard rumours, but if even half of them were true... well, let's just say it isn't a very good idea to get him mad with you. Not a good idea at all. In fact, it was suicidal. Only one person had ever been able to survive Angelus' wrath and that was Buffy Summers, the slayer that he was obsessed with, or at least was supposed to be obsessed with. Her friends were mostly alive as well, though that was mainly because she had kept on saving their hides. 

Angelus was renowned in the demonic world for his countless exploits and Ethan _really_ didn't want to get caught up in them. But it was not like he had a choice. He prided himself on a very good sense of preservation and normally he would have already done a runner. Regrettably, Ethan wasn't very popular on either side of the Atlantic, and he wasn't entirely sure that if Angelus contacted Ethan's old school friend Giles that his old chum would cover for him. Considering what happened the last time he saw the watcher, Giles would most likely give Angelus his exact location – complete with a flashing neon sign saying 'Ethan is here' in twenty-foot tall letters. 

He truly didn't understand why Giles had gotten so mad. The spell had eventually been reversed. He'd only been a demon for less than a day! Fluffy the slayer got him back to human again, along with her toy boy soldier boyfriend, Riley. 

So here he was, sipping from a travel flask of Ogden's Firewhisky while waiting for the brooding vampire to show up. 

A strong cold hand clamped down on his shoulder and Ethan jumped, spilling the alcohol all over himself. Looking up to the owner of the intruding arm, he saw Angelus' smug smirk. He was still in game face, a bit of blood dripping from his fangs.  

"I hope you didn't feed in Hogsmeade," Ethan cautioned, hoping to God that the vampire wouldn't kill him for it, "if the slayer were to find out you were here... He has magic, you know. The fight probably wouldn't be pleasant – for both parties."

"Stop being such a worrywart, Rayne! I'm not stupid," he said breezily, traces of an Irish accent leaking through. 

Ethan conjured two chairs, on opposite sides of the room from each other. Few went close to Angelus and usually they were demons themselves. Angelus flung himself into the seat, sprawling across it and his face slipping back to its human persona. Ethan tentatively sat down, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible. He put away the Firewhisky – he really needed his wits about him – and looked at the dark-haired vampire expectantly. 

Angelus' smirk remained firmly plastered across his face. "Impatient, aren't we?" he drawled, "Let's get down to business then." He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees and fixing Ethan with is dark gaze. "This Potter," he spat, "killed Drusilla. I made her what she was, found her, moulded her, gave her eternal life and then this little upstart comes along and kills her! Unsurprisingly, I want revenge. I have envisioned a few nice scenarios, all involving blood, screaming and death – preferably with a lot of torture thrown in. You get my drift?"

Ethan nodded, "What do you need me for?"

"To get me into Hogwarts of course. I would like to kill the brat sometime within the next century and I do _not_ feel like waiting."

"How am I going to get you into Hogwarts?" Ethan asked incredulously. He'd guessed that that was what Angelus wanted but had hoped he was wrong. "Under Dumbledore's nose?! It's suicide!"

"I'm already dead and Dumbledore's only an old man. I want that Slayer and if you won't do as I say then you die. Simple as that. Understand?"

The wizard gulped nervously before nodding. Dear Lord, he wasn't going to be able to handle this. Why did slayers have to constantly ruin his life?

Seeing that he had nothing left to lose, Ethan decided to take a chance and ask his question, "Why are you so obsessed with this slayer in the first place? Sure, he killed Drusilla but I would have thought you'd have gone after Buffy first. She _did_ send you to Hell."

Angelus scowled, "She'll get what's coming to her in time. I've got to take care of this first. Then I'll have plenty of time to terrorise my dear ex-girlfriend. Now here's what I want you to do," he began, starting to outline his plan and Ethan did something he never did, and prayed for his success. 

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

The next week or two was fairly uneventful, though everyone still treated Harry like he was the carrier of a plague and he masked his ever-growing contempt for those around him. The teachers watched him like a hawk – so much so that he couldn't even patrol, the Quidditch players constantly refused to listen to him, Creevey was still following him around with that blasted camera and he hadn't been able to find anything on Snape's aura! Nor had he made any considerable progress with Slytherin's belongings. So it was no surprise that he was extremely frustrated and short-tempered. His current state of mind was what made him like Dumbledore's next announcement so much.

The Duelling club had been a disaster so the faculty had had to figure out another way of doing it. It seemed they had finally agreed on something. Dumbledore had announced it that evening, standing up in his garish yellow robes and gaining everyone's attention.

"Children!" he'd called, "I have some wonderful news! In light of the _problems_ during the Duelling club session, we have adopted a new approach to it. To evaluate everyone's skills, we will be holding a duelling tournament. All fourth years and above are to enter. It is mandatory. Younger years are not allowed to compete because we feel that you do not have enough training yet. Names will be picked at random to duel against each other, as this is the fairest way to do it. The first round will be held at seven o'clock Sunday evening. Those duelling will be notified on Thursday. Though it would be advisable for all to attend, to size up the competition if you will. All curses except Dark Magic and the Unforgivables are allowed. Professors Snape, Rayne and Moody shall be the ones evaluating your performances. We hope that this new format will discourage any of the theatrics displayed last time.  It should be an enjoyable event." 

Harry had seen it as an opportunity to vent his aggravation on an unsuspecting student body. The very thought sent tingles of pleasure shooting down his spine. Too bad he couldn't damage them permanently, Merlin knows there were a few people he wouldn't mind tossing around the room or inflicting bodily harm on them. A pity but at least he'd get some payback. He could only hope that he got paired with someone decent like Malfoy or Ron – no Weasley now, he'd really like to beat them. Sunday would most assuredly be interesting.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

Voldemort paced his room, mentally debating over his next course of action. Within weeks, years of planning would come to fruition. Despite all the setbacks, he would triumph. It had taken him a long, long time to get to where he was, longer still thanks to that Potter brat. Thirteen years wasted, spent without physical form. His Death Eaters hadn't bothered to try and find him. In the end, it was only that snivelling rat Wormtail who had come crawling back. Oh, they'd been punished for their neglect but it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

His followers were a mixture of cowards and leeches. Too scared to defy him, cringing inwardly while they served him and others sought to get a little bit of his power. Most had some area of expertise or worth, be it social standing, political influence, intelligence or unusual skills. 

They were all useless. 

His Death Eaters were skilled at torture and mayhem and yet they had no understanding of the scale of his plans. He was not content to skulk in the shadows; he never had been, not since he was a boy. Even at a young age he had craved power, had known that he was different and that he was destined to be someone. 

He hadn't been the only one that saw his potential.

He had started at Hogwarts when Grindelwald was approaching the peak of his power and the Wizarding community had been desperate to find a way to stop the late Dark Lord. The boy he had been, Tom Riddle had displayed an unusual amount of power and intelligence, relentlessly striving to be the best. And he had been successful. He had been widely acknowledged as the best student Hogwarts had ever seen, the brightest and with a perfect record. Charming, brave, confident, intelligent and above all powerful. 

That had been his downfall.

Dumbledore, that conniving little cretin had 'accidentally' (more like completely on purpose) pointed out Tom's abilities and their potential uses. Before he knew it, Tom had been recruited into the war effort, nobody caring about how unwilling he was. 

He had been forced to train to fight against Grindelwald. He, a mere teenager. The training had been torturous, Dumbledore purposely exposing him to the Cruciatius curse. As if it was any wonder that that boy had gone on to become what he had been chosen to fight. Of course, all credit for that victory had gone to Dumbledore, even though it was he who had duelled with Grindelwald, he who had worn him down. Dumbledore had only stepped in at the last second with Avada Kedavra and yet every piece of the glory had gone to him and him alone. And people thought _he_ was bad, at least he made his intentions clear. 

He had plans, grand plans that had taken decades to get this far. When the time came the Wizarding world wouldn't know what hit them until it was too late and that was the way he wanted it. If he could get the revered Boy-Who-Lived to help him, then it would of that much faster. But he was patient and was prepared to wait to get what he wanted. He had moved too soon on Halloween night thirteen years ago and everybody knew what had happened to him then. 

Voldemort knew Dumbledore's style, knew his machinations but he had a one up on the detestable old coot – he knew what it was like to have a Dark kind of power. And that put him so much closer to understanding the Potter boy and achieving his end goal. 

Potter had more in common with him than even he thought. _And perhaps_, Voldemort thought, _he wouldn't be opposed to the idea of being my ally after all_. _All he needs is a little shove in the right direction. _

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

There were only a few minutes until the start of the match and the Gryffindor Quidditch team were gathered in the locker room, going over strategies. Or at least that was what they were supposed to be doing. The rest of the team were deliberately disobeying Harry, not listening to word he said even if he was captain. 

The leader of the so-called rebellion was none other than one Ronald Weasley. What on Earth had he ever seen in the guy? He was one of the most annoying things in the world, in the top five at least. They had been like this during every practice but Harry hadn't expected their idiocy to continue during the match! 

"Listen here you lot!" he said, "Can't we at least try and get along so we won't lose against Slytherin?"

There was no answer and they were still ignoring him. 

"Ron," Harry sneered at the cause of his current problems, "kindly stop stirring up trouble unless you would like to get kicked off the team."

"You can't do that!" Ron cried, and the other players backed him up.

"I'm the captain. Of course I can."

"I'll go to McGonagall," the redhead threatened.

"Do that," Harry said nonchalantly, "then you can explain exactly why it happened. McGonagall doesn't want to lose any more than I do, especially not to Slytherin. Snape would be gloating about it for weeks."

A muffled remark came from one of the slayers, sounding suspiciously like, "Slimy git." Harry was offended, he was most certainly not slimy, that was Snape's territory. And he didn't have to put up with it thank Merlin.

"Five points from Gryffindor for that comment Finnigan." he said pleasantly, feeling slightly vindictive.

"What?!" six voices shouted.

"That's your own house you prat!" Dean cried.

"Yeah, but I wasn't the one doing the insulting so blame Finnigan."

"And to think I used to like you," Ron muttered. Harry's supernatural hearing had no problem catching it.

"Got something to say Weasel? 'Cause if you do you'd better hurry. The match starts in five minutes."

Ron glared at him, clutching his battered broom so tightly that his knuckles were white. "I said I don't know why I ever liked you. You're worse than a Slytherin and a complete prat, who likes to flaunt his fame and money! You're not anything like you should be."

Harry's eyebrow raised a notch, "And what exactly should I be?"

"You were supposed to be a bloody hero! The person who defeated the Dark Lord! But you're just an arrogant brownnosing moron!"

"Supposed to be a hero? And who exactly decided that?!" Harry scoffed.

"Everybody did!"

"Not me. I didn't ask for any of it. You should know that Weasel. And I plan on having no part in the coming war. It's not my problem."

"But you're the Boy-Who-Lived! You're destined to defeat You-Know-Who! You can't just sit back and do nothing! See? I'm right, you're just a cowardly Death Eater." 

Harry's eyes flashed a fiery emerald as he stood up, "So eager for me to die Weasley?" he sneered and took some fleeting satisfaction in his shocked expression. In his and everybody else at Hogwarts opinions' Harry Potter _never _complained about being the Boy-Who-Lived. Not once had he ever done so and so it came as one hell of a surprise now. "Where does it say that _I_ have to be the one to fight him? Where's it written? Huh?" 

Ron looked away, not able to stand looking his in the eye when he was like this. Harry felt like shaking him, what did he know? He was the goddamn Slayer! He was supposed to give his life to save the world and they were ragging on about him not doing enough! Well to hell with them! "What do you know Weasley? You've never had to go up against Voldemort! You can't even say his name! Who are you to judge me you hypocrite!" 

Ron ignored the logic in Harry's words and focused on the ones that said he was a coward. He opened his mouth to start a blustering tirade, fitting to his level of anger but Harry cut him off. "The match is going to start. Get your brooms and then get your asses out to the pitch."

With that he stalked off, broom in hand towards the entrance to the pitch. Ron stared at his retreating back for a minute until he was sure he was gone and then he turned back to the rest of the team. "That git doesn't deserve to be captain!" he snarled, "He shouldn't even be in Gryffindor, let alone on the team! I have something in mind that will teach him a lesson. Come here!" he called, gesturing for the team to form a huddle. He quickly outlined his plans and secured agreement from the others before the team left the locker room. 

The announcer, a Ravenclaw this year, called out the teams. Harry hovered on his broom, ready to fly out upon hearing his name. The commentator finished with the Slytherin team and called out, "Now here comes the Gryffindor Quidditch team, winners of last year's Quidditch cup. Captain Potter, Finnigan, Thomas, Creevey, Ashford, Weasley and Weasley!"

They flew out to the cheering of their house and the booing from the Slytherins. Harry felt the wind whip through his hair and took a deep breath, doing a small loop and revelling in the feeling of being in the air. He went over to Madame Hooch and reluctantly shook hands with the Slytherin captain, Draco Malfoy. Madame Hooch let out the snitch and released the bludgers before scooping up the Quaffle and throwing it into the sky. The match had begun.

The Slytherin Keeper proved to be more of a problem than expected and few goals were getting through. There was no sign of the snitch and Malfoy seemed to be content to follow Harry around the pitch. His senses gave him a warning and he rolled to the right, avoiding the Bludger looking to take off his head. He shouted at the Beaters to pay more attention and resumed looking for the snitch.

Two minutes later, another Bludger was inbound and he was forced to dodge out of the way again. Tracking its trajectory he traced it back to Seamus Finnigan. He cursed viciously, that was one beater intent on hitting him and friend Marcus Ashford would probably go along with him. That meant that he had four Beaters trying to knock him off his broom. Oh, he just had all the luck, didn't he?!

The next few minutes were spent dodging Bludgers and the occasional swipe from a Beater's bat. He had to perform some fancy aerodynamics to shake them but they kept coming back. And the Gryffindor Chasers still hadn't found an effective way past the Slytherin Keeper. Of course, they were obviously in on this little plot since they were turning a blind eye to it. The stands were going wild as some people realised what was going on and spread the word. 

He tried yelling at his team but they were completely ignoring him. He felt a nasty headache creeping up on him; they were so going to pay for this. He'd make sure of it. He only needed one chance to guess the ringleader, the new thorn in his side that went by the name of Weasel. Harry was being made a fool out of up here and he wasn't going to stand for it any longer. If his team felt they could play without him, then he'd just have to get creative. And the more it hurt them the better.

Carefully positioning himself, he stooped to taunting the Slytherin and Gryffindor Beaters, trying to get them riled up. He certainly succeeded. As he'd hoped they both shot Bludgers at him. He dived down steeply and smirked when he heard a rather loud thud and two yells of pain. After missing him, the Bludgers had gone on to hit Seamus and one of the Slytherin Beaters called Adrian Berkenbridge. 

Below in the stands Minerva McGonagall was in a fury. What did the boy think he was doing?! If he kept this up they were going to lose the match! To _Slytherin_! Oh, when she got her hands on him...

After two hours of waiting for a glimpse of the snitch, Harry was bored, frustrated and seething. He had lost count of the number of times people had tried to ram into him, 'accidentally' fly into him, conveniently dropped their bats on him and he'd been chased by Bludgers. Was it any wonder he was contemplating murder? 

To top it all off, there hadn't even been one sign of that blasted golden ball and Malfoy seemed to be taking great enjoyment out of the Gryffindor team's antics. Fed up, he glanced at the darkening sky and thought about how much he would like to wallop Ron over the head with his broom, or perhaps a boulder. Both were appealing. 

 A glimpse of gold in the corner of his eye had him diving before Malfoy had even registered what was happening. The snitch was hovering near the ground, beside the Slytherin hoops and he wasn't going to miss this opportunity. He was aware of Malfoy following him but knew he wouldn't be able to catch up in time. Once it was in reach, he stretched out his arm and grasped it in a lightning fast motion. He held his hand up in the air, feeling its wings fluttering in vain inside his closed fist. 

Madame Hooch blew her whistle and announced a Gryffindor victory. The Slytherins glared daggers at him and his own teammates looked disappointed that he was still in one piece. 

Descending to the ground, he stormed over to the exuberant winners. "What was the meaning of that debacle?!" he yelled at them and silence fell across the field. 

Some looked slightly nervous – Creevey – while others looked smug – Weasley. He felt his blood begin to boil and gave them his best glower. Some visibly shivered. 

"I cannot believe that you aimed your Bludgers at _me_! Like it or not I am a part of this team and captain. I deserve some respect. You could have lost us the match! You could have seriously hurt me!"

"So?" Ron asked, "Really, I think it's a shame that you didn't get hit."

Harry's lips tightened into a thin line and he couldn't be bothered to restrain himself. His clenched fist made contact with Ron's jaw and the loudmouthed redhead fell to the ground, out cold. Harry had to keep from smiling. Instead he decided to vent on the rest of his team mates. "I thought Gryffindor was supposed to be known for its loyalty. How in the world did you lot get sorted into it?!" he bellowed. "I've had an enough! I do not have to put up with your stupidity! Find yourself another Seeker! I QUIT!!!!" 

He strode off the pitch, leaving behind an unconscious Ron, a stunned crowd and an absolutely astounded Quidditch team. McGonagall tried to waylay him but backed off after seeing the dark look on his face.

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

The next evening the Duelling tournament officially opened. Unfortunately, Harry hadn't been called for the first round so he was there strictly in the role of an observer. Well, he supposed it was a good way to size up the competition. But then again what competition? He was stronger than they were, all it would take was one good punch and lights out for whoever.

The duels were fairly tame, mainly by the book affairs involving the younger years. Obviously Dumbledore was waiting to call the elder students who had more power and skill than their younger counterparts.

Harry was sorely disappointed that he wasn't in it. His temper had been brewing for ages now and he'd been looking forward to a way of relieving his anger on some unlucky opponents - victims. He was so frustrated here that it was unbelievable. The slayer in him was itching for a fight but he couldn't get out of the bloody castle to have one! He'd had a whole bunch of nasty spells ready and all!

Generally speaking, the tournament wasn't that spectacular and everybody was looking forward to more capable duellers in the future. It would get beyond boring to keep watching duels with no heat in them. The second round was to be held on the following Sunday and should prove to be more exciting. Hopefully, at least.

~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Life was colossally unfair. That was the major thought running through Harry's head on Monday morning. Did he have to be a prime example of Murphy's Law – everything that can go wrong will go wrong? Had he killed or annoyed a Murphy in a past life or something?

He was sitting – well, more like slouching – in a chair in the Headmaster's office, sullenly glaring at his lap. He had to look down since he most certainly didn't want to look at the office's other occupants, who were none other than Dumbledore, McGonagall – and worst of all – Cornelius Fudge and a few of his lackeys disguised as aurors. 

The bumbling moron that passed for the Minister of Magic had already paid him several of these 'visits'. The man was convinced that Harry was evil with a capital 'e'. And the fact that he could conveniently blame everything Voldemort did on Harry, the Dark Lord's supposed ally had absolutely _nothing_ to do with it. 

On his last trip to Hogwarts – after Voldemort's break in, he'd interrogated Harry, positive that he'd helped He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It was such a pity that Voldemort hadn't killed Fudge already but he felt that having a complete idiot as Minister would only help him and so Fudge lived on. Primarily to annoy Harry. Why oh why couldn't the man just leave him alone? He was so fed up with it at this stage.

The two aurors accompanying the Minister glared daggers at him, trying to be intimidating. 

It wasn't working.

Harry's fingers tapped a steady rhythm on the arm of the chair as he studiously ignored the five pairs of eyes watching him like hawks. "Can we just get on with it already?" he snapped irritably. 

The aurors scowled at him, hands on their wands. They probably wanted to hex him, Harry thought, after all he was the 'mentally disturbed, brain damaged Death Eater' according to the papers, and more specifically Rita Skeeter.

Fudge started blathering about pressing charges, expulsion, Azkaban and a load of other equally pleasant things. Harry tuned him out, threats didn't work with him. 

"Well?! What do you have to say for yourself?!" Fudge exclaimed.

Harry looked up, blinked several times, "What do I have to say for myself? Hmmm, such a difficult question... I know!" he said dryly, tapping a finger against his chin, "How about go back to the Ministry offices, return to being an ostrich and leave me alone?"

That set Fudge off on another rant. The man had quite the set of lungs. "Impossible! Totally impossible! You can't get any good out of him!"

Harry's lip curled into a little smirk, one of his favourite new expressions at this. 

"Be warned boy! You're one step away from Azkaban!" Fudge continued. 

Harry yawned pointedly, "Are you finished yet? We've been here..." he paused to look at his watch, "an hour. Isn't that a long enough time to torture me with your esteemed company?"

Red really didn't suit Fudge's complexion, it made him look rather like Uncle Vernon in Harry's opinion. Focusing on what Willow Rosenberg, Sunnydale's most powerful witch, had taught him, he began weaving a subtle wandless wiccan spell. Locking his eyes onto Fudge's beady ones, he implanted a dew ideas into the dim-witted Minister's subconscious. Namely the desire to avoid Harry as much as possible and to keep him from specifically looking for ways to press charges against him. 

It was somewhat like the Imperius curse in the way it controlled people, except the victim still had free will. He thought for himself, but unknowingly responded to the implanted commands. If Fudge stepped out of line, Harry would be warned, which was nice. But his favourite aspect of the spell was that it was completely undetectable and unheard of in the Wizarding world. Though he'd have to make sure Rayne didn't see him doing anything like this. He most certainly did not want to give the wizard any blackmail material.

~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~

That evening, Harry was hiding out in his room, practically buried under a large pile of books. Due to a stroke of luck, he had come across some of Voldemort's, or as he was back then – Tom Riddle. They dealt with the steps he had taken to ensure his immortality, that much he could make out. Steps that Harry was very interested in. 

The catch was that Riddle had written it in the Basque language or Euskara to give it its proper name and it was in code as well. The Basque region was famous for its witchcraft and Dark Arts. Rumour had it that it had arisen from the ruins of the Carthaginian Empire. Situated in the Pyrenees – the mountains separating Spain and France, Riddle must have studied and/or went through some of his transformations into Voldemort there.

Harry didn't know a word of Basque and the information on it was extremely scarce so the deciphering of the notes was going very, very slowly. He didn't know how long it would take him to crack it but he was sure that there was important information here, or at the very least some blackmail material and much needed leverage – for either Voldemort or Dumbledore. His gut instinct was telling him this find was important and he had always trusted his instincts, even more so now that he was the Slayer. That was one of the first things Buffy had taught him when she trained him. All he need was time.

~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~

Harry had had a very interesting day. He'd had Divination in the afternoon but had lost his temper after fifteen minutes and blown up at Trelawney. After he'd finished yelling he'd left. Idly, he wondered how many points Gryffindor had lost because of that incident. It really didn't matter since he was persona non grata in Gryffindor house after quitting the Quidditch team. Gryffindor had no seekers that could match Harry's skill and they were desperately trying to find a replacement. Unsuccessfully, he could add. He'd gone down to the lake to relax and had ended up having a nice conversation with a nearby garden snake. 

That snake had not only been chatty but it had given him some significant information. According to the small serpent, the centaurs were in uproar over something, most likely the recent sighting in the stars, whatever that was. 

Since Harry had missed them on his last excursion to the Forest, he'd decided it was an ideal time to go search for them. If he was lucky, they'd let slip some information. Leaving the castle had been risky but he had conjured an illusion of himself, making it look like he was asleep in bed. Hopefully that would allay any suspicion or else he'd be in a whole new world of trouble. 

A nifty little location spell, also courtesy of Willow led him to the centaurs' stronghold. He crept up on them stealthily, no need to alert them of his presence when he could eavesdrop instead. Bane and Firenze were yet again arguing. Had they nothing better to do?

"They should be warned!" Firenze cried.

"We do not interfere with the lives of humans! The secrets of the stars are not meant for them!"

"Lives could be lost!"

"As long as they're not ours. Must you be so weak! You lack the proper pride in your race!"

"And the stuffiness," Firenze muttered under his breath. Harry's lips twitched at the comment. He had to agree with the younger centaur about that. His attention was drawn back to the conversation by the mention of his name.

"And you helped the Potter boy despite our express orders not to! His fate was already sealed!"

"If it was sealed then obviously I did not change it, did I?"

Bane kicked with his hooves in aggravation and was about to retort when a female centaur butted in, "Enough! You two bicker like foals! Besides we have a visitor over there by the trees," she said sternly, pointing at Harry's hiding place. 

Harry's eyes narrowed, how had she known? She was definitely one to watch. Slowly, he straightened up and came out from behind the bushes. "Hi!" he greeted cheerily.

"Harry Potter," Firenze said, "Should you not be in the castle?"

"Nah," Harry answered with a casual gesture, "I'm only here to do my job. Though your conversation _was_ most interesting. Until you stopped that is."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm the Slayer. I'm here to lay down the ground rules." 

The poor centaurs were speechless, they hadn't seen that one coming. "Ground rules?" Bane sputtered, "How dare you?!"

"It's my job to keep the peace," Harry said lazily, "I've already gone round to everybody and everything else in the forest. Basically you agree to stay neutral and not wreak havoc and I leave you guys alone. Not too bad a request I should think."

"We are neutral anyway Harry Potter," the female intoned. 

"Yeah, well I had to make sure. Now a little birdie told me that you had some knowledge of some things to come. I suppose you wouldn't share?"

"You're right. We wouldn't." Bane told him. 

"Then I guess I'll go. Remember – stick to your part of the bargain and I'll stick to mine."

He disappeared into the thick foliage, returning to Hogwarts. The three centaurs looked at each other, an unspoken communication passing between them. Tough times were ahead for young Harry Potter.

~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~

A few days later, tensions were high. A lot of the students were quite high strung, as the Magical Aptitude Tests were due back. There had also been a few run-ins between Ron and Harry, the latter displaying a vicious temper as of late. 

In the middle of breakfast, their respective heads of House began handing out envelopes. Hermione nearly passed out from anticipation at the Gryffindor table. The results were here. Harry took his wordlessly, not wanting to get into another war of words with McGonagall and especially not so early in the day.

Ripping it open, he pulled out the sheaf of parchment inside and unfolded it. Eyes bugging out, he choked on his pumpkin juice, sending him into a coughing fit. His eyes had to be deceiving him, this couldn't be true. He read it again and the writing didn't change. Oh. Shit.

Written across the page in precise black lettering was the following,

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We are pleased to announce the results of your Magical Aptitude Test. You scored six hundred. This is an extremely impressive figure and one of the highest recorded in our archives. Congratulations on your success._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Muriel Longbourn,_

_Department of Magical Research._

He was doomed. Doomed. There was no way in hell that Dumbledore wouldn't hear of this. This was going to make things quite difficult for a while, very difficult. The headmaster was like a bloodhound, except he hunted power. Worse still, the only reason the Ministry probably even gave this test was to see who to keep an eye on and who to try and recruit. 

He _knew_ he should have deliberately tried to flunk it! He barely resisted the urge to bang his head off the table, totally oblivious to the excited chatter around him as the student body compared results.

~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~

Students and teachers alike flattened themselves against the wall as he stalked by; most had their wands in hand and were either terrified, glaring at his with loathing or a combination of the two. He really was going to kill Ronald Weasley for putting his in this position. 

That little prat had somehow managed to see his result and had promptly spread it throughout the entire school, heavily embellished with the rumours of his dark ways. No, nearly everyone was tripping over themselves to stay away from him and he knew that more than a few students had written home to their parents to complain. 

But he was getting ahead of himself, first came some revenge, involving some serious hexing on a certain redheaded Gryffindor blabbermouth. Cornering some third years, he managed to conclude that Ron was having dinner, despite their stuttering. Changing direction, he went after his target with all the single-mindedness of a predator. 

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

Unbeknownst to Harry, Malfoy had been slipping him some potion from Voldemort for the last while, building it up in the raven-haired boy's bloodstream and when the blonde Slytherin saw Harry come into the Great Hall, he felt that those potions were about to cause a whole lot of damage. And he most definitely did not want to be around when it happened. Mount Potter was about to explode and like his Lord had warned him to do, he avoided Potter and fled the hall. 

Harry felt his magic and inner darkness taking over in the face of his blinding rage when he saw Ron. The moron was telling yet another false story about him, claming that Harry had really set the Basilisk on Colin Creevey, Hermione and the others in his second year. 

Harry seethed inwardly, trying to keep his magical temper under control; it wouldn't do for him to kill someone because of it. Unfortunately, a particularly vicious remark caused his control to snap and he lost control completely. Eyes changing to a luminous green, - the colour of Avada Kedavra – he acted on pure fury, instead of cunning as he used to. 

Ron shot out of his chair, flying up and around the room and spinning like a speeding snitch. Harry brought him to hover in front of him and then smiled evilly, "Got something to say Weasel?" he asked. 

Ron looked terrified, and slightly nauseous from the spin and didn't reply. The two boys had the attention of everyone in the hall and Dumbledore had jumped up from his seat in response to the threat.

In his seat at the High Table, Severus Snape looked on in horror. What was wrong with Harry? It wasn't like him to lose control like this, especially in front of witnesses. He looked... wild, out of control and completely unhinged. Dumbledore was practically salivating at the show of power; he could see it, even as the old man cautiously approached the young enraged wizard. Severus knew that if Albus failed, then he himself would have to calm Harry down, but only as a last resort. It would result in too many tricky questions that he couldn't answer. 

But Albus wouldn't go easy on Harry, and the old coot's plans would be put into action. Harry was going to kill the headmaster once he found out, assuming that he still could after the spell. But now wasn't the time to be dwelling on this, he had to keep an eye on the boy standing in the middle of the hall.

Albus fired a stunning curse, followed by a flurry of conjured ropes but Harry blocked the stunner and let the ropes hit Ron instead of him. Turning around to face the headmaster, he stared at him with eyes devoid of any colour except that particular shade of green. "Get lost Dumbledore, unless you want to end up as worm food."

Albus ignored the remark and tried to talk him down, "Be reasonable Harry. Put Mr Weasley down."

"I don't think so. But perhaps you can go down yourself." With that he fired a volley of curses at Dumbledore, sans wand. The headmaster barely managed to lock them and soon both were engaged in a fast and furious duel, Harry using Ron as a handy shield when he felt like it.

Soon it became clear that Harry had the upper hand and Dumbledore decided to take drastic measures to ensure his victory. Calling up his energy reserves, he harnessed all the magic he could and making sure he didn't outwardly speak it, he concentrated on the spell word. _Crucio!_

Harry couldn't dodge it as he was blocking another volley of spells from some of the other teachers who'd joined in and it hit him in his chest. His eyes rolled back in their sockets and his head snapped back, his entire body becoming taut and rigid. Oh Merlin, he thought, he hadn't! but now the pain of the Cruciatus curse was overtaking his senses, a very powerful Cruciatus curse indeed. But he was the Slayer and he always had some line of defence...

The power of the spell ripped through his body and the last bit of his control was overridden. He felt the power surging to the surface, the dark, destructive magic hidden in his very core being released at last...

And there was a sudden explosion as the ceiling of the Great Hall blew up with a tremendous boom of such force that it sent tremors through the castle's foundations and screams filled the air as tonnes of rubble and debris fell towards the mass of students and teachers...

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

A/N: My first cliffhanger! Yay me! All the information on the Basque region is true and documented. Interesting place, huh? PLEASE REVIEW!!!

Asha


	5. Shackled

**History Repeats Itself by Asha Dreamweaver.**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**Author's notes**: Thank you SO much for the great feedback. And as so many of you commented I am evil and yes, I was sorted into Slytherin on the official Harry Potter website.

Thanks to all those who reviewed! Please continue doing so!

_Fair Lady Ravenclaw_ – Thank you! Being evil is always fun! Yes, I'm a Slytherin and proud of it! Will Harry go back in time during the explosion? Sorry, no. I have to torture him more first and I have plans for his *extremely* big exit!

_Scarlett _– I am so in love with your story. UPDATE!!!!!!!

_atalante_ – Thanks! I am glad that you think my version of Dumbledore is realistic!

_ADJ_ – You're so sweet! I will try and explain the M.A.Ts score. As for Sirius Black, I'll be mean and say which one? Wait and see.

_Katherine_ – Thank you so much for the review! Sevie's aura? Will be explained in time, I can't give a way a major bit of my plot, can I? Harry join Voldemort? NO WAY, though he's sure going to cause trouble for him. Will Dumbledore find out about the slayers? Dunno, depends on where the fic takes me. 

_ExCaLiBeR_ – Thanks for the review! And Dumbledore thinks he's going to win. As for what Sev is, you're going to have to wait. Sorry! *Ducks flying projectiles*

_Starkitty_ – The orby thingy. Oh you're close, very close. All will be explained in this chapter. Enjoy!

_Seer-Cassandra_ – Are you **EVER** planning on updating? Or do I have to nag you until you do? Yes, Halloween should be good. But then again you already know that.

_Lynlyn_ – Thanks for reviewing. I can see why you don't like Harry to be public enemy number one but hopefully, it won't be that way forever. Of course, it must get worse before it gets better. And as for the infrequent displays of power, he has to watch himself around Dumbledore but I can promise you a lot more little incidents! 

_Tom_ – Yes, I know I have to elaborate on the MATs scores. Consider it a little oversight that will be remedied. As for the ritual, you are very, very close. A sentimental Dark Lord? Somehow I can't see Voldie giving up his torturing sessions for a psychiatrist's office. Waaay too weird. I'm really glad you liked the last scene! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

_Sylph-san_ – I'm glad you like my fic! The Lady will be given more definition in time but I assure you she's not going to be what she seems and definitely not a Mary Sue. I'm happy that you think my portrayal of Dumbledore is realistic, it's nice to know that I can be convincing.

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Chapter 5: Shackled 

Utter chaos. 

That was the only way you could describe Hogwarts at the present time. Hovering about a foot above their heads were tonnes of rubble, held at bay only by the force of Harry's will, a will that was slowly faltering under repeated exposure to the Cruciatus curse. But there was no way that he was going to die like this, not a chance. He planned on going out with a bang not being buried alive while under an Unforgivable. 

That deep, dark core of destructive magic that he'd kept hidden for so long was still there, pulsing beneath his skin, in his very blood and he knew that he could never return it to where it had once resided. It was here to stay. He had little to no control over it but he was nothing but persistent, blocking out the pain from his senses, he concentrated on both keeping the roof from caving in and on getting Dumbledore as far away from him as possible. 

He was on his knees now, unused to handling such a large amount of power. Slowly, very slowly, he reached into the well of magic inside of him and gathered it, painstakingly moulding it into something he could use. His eyes were closed now, and he didn't see what happened next.

A cloud of black magic interlaced with green mist swirled around his body, and a few thin tendrils of ebony snaked away from Harry and headed towards the stunned beyond belief headmaster. They closed around him, trapping him in their dark embrace and they picked him up, throwing him across the room. He landed with a thud, eerily loud in the silent room, silent save for the groaning, creaking noises of the concrete over their heads. 

The teachers were the first to recover, Severus jumping off his chair and yelling for the students to get out. Seeing the normally unflappable Potions Master lose his cool, they were even more terrified and scrambled to obey. The Head of Slytherin House could see that Harry was rapidly losing strength and that the floating roof wasn't going to stay airborne for much longer. 

Harry waited until the room was clear of students and most of the teachers, Rayne had been first out of the door – the big coward - and Dumbledore was trying to get there but he didn't care about the old man's safety. He was tired and he was _not_ going to hold the ceiling up anymore. With a colossal roar, it cascaded down, turning some of the castle into a scene of pure destruction as the structure was drastically weakened. The only spot that was clear of debris was a three-foot radius around Harry. Fortunately Ron – who had fainted from terror by this time – was included in his little circle of safety, though not intentionally. 

The slayer staggered to his feet, exhaustion beginning to creep up on him. His body still ached from prolonged exposure to Cruciatus, which didn't help at all. The black cloud withdrew into his body as he stood and Dumbledore deemed it safe to rush back in. 

The headmaster and most of the faculty surrounded him with wands at the ready, though quite a few were shaking. Only the Heads of House had remained behind in more structurally sound parts of the castle to comfort and control their distraught and panic-stricken students. 

Wearily, Harry opened his eyes, which still shone with that unnatural green colour. Unconsciously he slipped into a defensive stance, ready to fight even if he did want nothing more than to collapse into a bed and sleep for the next three years. 

While his guard was down, Dumbledore signalled to the teachers and they all started casting curses and hexes at him. Harry managed to divert and block most of them but again; a particularly strong one from Dumbledore took him down. Vines whipped around the slayer's body, entangling him in their folds. He almost instantly recognised the plant from his first year – Devil's Snare! Damn that coot! His wand was still in his holster, he couldn't reach it and he was so very tired... And the teachers were still trying to stupefy him, he had been able to block all the spells so far but he couldn't do it forever. Desperately he tried to summon some fire but there was something pushing against his magic, resisting his will. 

Another spell by the headmaster and Harry felt as if he was suffocating, as if someone had cut off the very air he needed to breath. With a start, he realised that Dumbledore had been able to temporarily block the majority of his magic! He was going to kill him when he got his hands on him! How in Merlin's name was he supposed to fight against their spells now?! He doubted his success but that damn smug expression on the headmaster's face caused him to fight against it.  

Harry yelled and thrashed, trying to use brute strength to break out of the bonds. His magic may have been restrained for now but he sure as hell wasn't going down without a fight. Finally, the Devil's Snare started to give way, unable to take the strain but Dumbledore saw what was happening and strengthened them even further. Harry found himself immobilised within seconds, every limb tightly bound. He struggled but the vines only held him tighter. He eventually had to settle for glaring at Dumbledore, hard green eyes promising a painful death for this humiliation. His chest heaved from his exertions but he began working on beating down the wards that were temporarily restraining his magic. If he could break them, then he could get loose. 

Dumbledore turned to Professor Vector, "Fetch some of the Order members," he commanded. The man scurried to obey. Then he turned back to the still struggling Harry, whose eyes glowed brighter than ever and whose glare was so murderous as to unnerve even him. "Just what were you thinking Mr Potter? Dark magic? You could be expelled for this, maybe even sent to Azkaban," he said in that infuriating – in Harry's opinion anyway – I-know-everything voice he used so much. 

"I knew I should have crushed you!" Harry snarled, anger coming off him in waves. 

"Not even Tom Riddle did this much damage to my school. Do you really want to be like him? After all I've done to keep you safe?" Harry had to give the headmaster due credit, the man was a brilliant actor. A pity that Harry could see through him. Dumbledore looked like a stern grandfather, disappointed in his charge and chastising him appropriately. 

Cool emerald eyes locked onto twinkling blue ones, "Safe? Keep me safe? Out of the goodness of your heart? Wrong headmaster, you want a tool. Someone that can help you take care of Voldemort, of the boy you feel you failed. I'm nobody's pawn. I have no intention of becoming your lapdog." With that he resumed his task of breaking the highly complicated – and illegal - spell, ignoring the shocked and angered expression on the headmaster's face.

"What changed you Harry?"

"Power is power Professor and I've just discovered I have it."

"Like Tom Riddle?"

Harry glared at Dumbledore, "I have more important things to worry about than Voldemort. If you're so powerful, go and kill him yourself. I'm a pawn for you no longer."

Dumbledore was beginning to lose his facade of calmness, "You're being irrational Harry, it's just the stress, I'm sure that...." He never got to finish because Harry interrupted him. 

"How long did it take before he cracked? Definitely before his sixth year. Tell me, how did it feel casting the Cruciatus on him, along with a multitude of other curses? Does it feel good to treat people like pawns? You made Tom Riddle who he is, headmaster. Were you going to try and do the same to me? Because I won't allow it."

Dumbledore's twinkling orbs had turned into chips of blue ice and his grasp on his wand tightened. "Have you been listening to Tom's lies again Harry?" he asked, his tone frigid and forbidding. 

"What need was there to do that? All that was needed was some investigation and his words were verified. And if they hadn't been, I think the present state of affairs would have proved my theory."

Dumbledore didn't answer, as the requested Order of the Phoenix members arrived. He talked to them in low voices but Harry heard everything. They had something planned, he could tell. Undoubtedly something unpleasant. Well, he might be experiencing a little crisis at the moment but he wasn't going to just lie there and accept what was coming. 

Under his breath, he began speaking in Parseltongue, an ability that Dumbledore couldn't negate. He could easily work the Serpensortia spell without the wards mattering at all. He wondered if he could do the same with other spells but dismissed it for a later date, he didn't have the time to experiment at the moment. 

The snake materialised in the in between two large chunks of concrete. It was beautiful. At least in Harry's eyes anyway. Large, rivalling Nagini in size, it had green and silver hued scales, large pearly white fangs, dripping with some poison and forest green eyes – exactly how Harry had visualised it. Hissing out a command, - "Attack the old white haired man." – he watched gleefully as it slithered through the debris and launched itself at the headmaster. 

Unbeknownst to Harry, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin had arrived in time to witness Harry's act of destruction. Finding out what had happened from one of the teachers, they had raced to the hall, convinced that Harry _couldn't_ have done something so awful. They found themselves at a loss for words when they saw Harry tightly bound and trying to glare a hole through the people restraining him. 

Remus' nose twitched as he picked up on another scent in the room, one of the side affects of being a Werewolf. The scent wasn't human and it was coming from near Harry. He looked intently at the livid teenager, who lips were moving and quickly figured out what was happening. He hastily explained to Sirius, who wore an Order uniform and mask to keep his identity a secret and then made his way over to the headmaster to tell him. So that was how they were there when chaos erupted for the second time. 

The snake tried to bite the human who had dared hurt its master but the old wizard showed surprising agility when he dodged out of the way, aided by Remus tugging on his arm. The defeater of Grindelwald had a nasty spell on his lips when Harry called off the snake. 

The boy hissed at the serpent, "He'll kill you if you persssissst in attacking him. Essscape and go tell what happened to the Basssilisssk in the Chamber of Sssecretsss. He can help get me loossse. Go!" The snake obeyed, slinking away before it too could be caught. 

Noticing the somewhat homicidal look gracing the headmaster's face, Harry decided to throw caution to the wind and see if his earlier theory rang through. Again switching to Parseltongue, he began trying to perform a wandless spell in the snake-tongue. Not exactly his speciality. His eyes drooped closed in concentration and that was how he received the warning too late. The whistling air would normally have alerted him but it didn't register until after the event. 

That's why he was so surprised when a dagger buried itself in his side. 

Harry gasped as pain overtook his senses and doubled over from the impact, straining against the Devil's Snare. He tried in vain to remove the offending knife but the vines wouldn't let him move enough to reach it. Blood was pouring freely out of the wound. Too much blood. He was the slayer but it didn't mean blood loss wouldn't affect him, just not as soon as normal people. 

Trying to recover his composure, he lifted his head to search out the person who had done this. And found himself staring down Dumbledore. The headmaster showed no remorse, even as some of the Order members gaped at him. Although most just looked at the fallen slayer with hard eyes. 

"You sanctimonious bas****!" Harry ground out, "If you're going to kill me, at least do it right instead of treating me like a pincushion."

Dumbledore again refused to answer and Harry could feel himself getting woozy. The dagger must have done more damage than he first thought. There was a muttered word, "Stupefy," and then the world faded into blackness.

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~

Dumbledore looked dispassionately at the unconscious, bloodied figure lying on the floor. In his opinion, the boy was beginning to outlive his usefulness. Hearing a commotion nearby, he turned to look. Sirius Black was being held back by another of the Order members, incomprehension evident in his features. "Albus!" he cried once he saw the headmaster looking at him, "What did you do?!"

Sighing in annoyance, he went over to the escaped convict and tried to hammer his point through the animagus' thick skull. "Sirius," he said, affecting an air of great weariness and sorrow, "It would seem that Voldemort has finally gotten to Harry."

Sirius' eyes widened, "What? How? What happened here? Why did you hurt Harry?" he asked, the words tumbling out rapidly. 

Remus laid a hand on Sirius' shoulder and he implored Dumbledore to continue. "Harry worked some extremely dark magic here today. It appears that Voldemort has brainwashed him to some extent, unless Harry actually went to him willingly, which is a possibility. He thinks that we are the enemy, he even tried to defend the Dark Lord, saying that it was my fault." He heaved a sigh, "I had hoped that it wouldn't come to this but today has proved beyond any doubt that Harry is a hazard. He cannot be allowed to run around unchecked anymore. As it is, I am going to have difficulties just keeping him at Hogwarts. By all rights, he should have been expelled, if not imprisoned for this stunt. The Ministry will demand explanations and what am I going to tell the students?"

"What do you plan on doing?" Remus asked.

"Well, Harry cannot be allowed to awaken until we have restrained him to some extent. We need to get the school repaired before the Dark Lord gets wind of our weakness. Also, we need to know if Harry has joined Voldemort so he will have to be questioned under Veritaserum. What happens after that will depend on Harry. I'm sorry Sirius, we did our best," he said, giving the stricken man a pitying look. 

He walked away and Sirius leaned on Remus for support, "You-Know-Who? He went to You-Know-Who?" said in a lost voice, "Dear Merlin, James.... Lily... I failed them Moony."

"You didn't fail them Padfoot. Whatever Harry has done, it was his own choice. You know as well as I do that Imperius doesn't work on him."

"I just can't believe it. Harry, a Death Eater? It doesn't seem possible."

"You saw what he did Padfoot. Dumbledore is right, he has to be dealt with."

"I know, but it hurts."

"I know Padfoot, I know." 

Dumbledore spotted Severus the moment he entered the ruined room. He called the spy over and pulled him aside, into a relatively quiet corner. 

"Severus, has Potter gone to Voldemort?"

The Potions Master looked startled, "No, I haven't seen him at any meetings and if the Dark Lord had acquired Potter as a servant he would have been boasting about it."

The headmaster nodded, "It is as I thought then. I want you to take Potter to the cell I prepared a few weeks ago. Give him some potions for his wound and make sure he has restraints on. Some potions to keep him docile are going to be required as well."

Severus' eyes narrowed, "His wound?"

"He got out of hand. It's in his side; you will see what I mean. Do it now Severus," he said harshly. The spy nodded and swept away, black robes billowing behind him. Dumbledore ran a hand through his beard and began issuing instructions to the Order members. He wanted Potter dealt with as soon as possible. And he'd have to tell Minerva to deal with the youngest Weasley boy; the redhead was _still_ floating in the hall. 

~*~*~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~**~*~**

Severus kept his face in an impassive mask while he retrieved Harry. The boy was in a pitiful state really; no one had even bothered to dress the wound before now. Not that Dumbledore would care if Harry died, once he had gotten what he wanted first.

Flicking his wand, he removed the Devil's Snare – there was really no need for it when he was unconscious – and levitated the prone form and walked out of the hall, heading towards the isolated tower at the other side of the castle. The other students had been confined to their dormitories until the matter had been dealt with. It had been pandemonium trying to round up all the panicking children. Explanations still hadn't been given to them yet. They would have to wait until the teachers found out which lies Dumbledore wanted to feed them. 

So that was how he was assured that he wouldn't encounter anybody on his way to the cell. All of the Order members would be trying to repair the damage to the school so that was them out of the way. He really didn't want to help Dumbledore hurt Harry but he had no choice. Until Harry returned, he had to pretend to be Dumbledore's lapdog, regardless of how much it galled him. Harry was a bright boy, with plenty of contacts. Severus was sure that he'd figure out how to circumvent the headmaster's plans, most likely with a healthy dose of revenge thrown in. 

Scanning the corridors to make sure no one was there, he slowly cancelled the levitation spell, gently lowering the slayer to the floor. Being very careful, he scooped Harry up in his arms. Harry's present state tore at Sev's heart; it was so rare to see the slayer in such bad condition. Seeing him like this scared the Potions Master more than he could say, he didn't like being reminded that as the slayer, Harry could easily never come back one day, just like his many predecessors. 

He chalked up the sudden lack of caution on his part and the overwhelming need to hold Harry close to that knowledge. He looked so vulnerable in Sev's arms. 

Climbing the steps to the tower entrance, he went into the cell that Dumbledore had painstakingly prepared. It was nearly magic proof; only certain people who were keyed to the wards could use magic within these walls. There were no windows and the door faded into the wall as soon as it was closed, only able to be opened from the outside. The only piece of furniture was a bed with restraints. 

He tenderly placed Harry on the bed, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. Harry's skin was deathly pale, as well as cold and clammy from the blood loss so Severus knew he needed to address that problem first. Removing the dagger, he conjured some bandages to staunch the renewed bleeding and searched his robes for the vial he had brought with him. Finally finding it, he pulled out the milky-white potion designed to knit flesh back together and unstoppered it. 

Slipping his hand beneath Harry's head and raising it, he poured the liquid into his mouth, rubbing his throat until Harry involuntarily swallowed. Peeling off Harry's robes and polo neck, he examined the wound. It was very ugly and deep but the potion combined with slayer healing abilities would have it mended before the day had passed. Cleaning away the blood, he rebandaged it and conjured a loose shirt onto Harry.

Picking up the dagger, he cast a strong cleaning charm on it. Slayer's blood was very potent, and it wouldn't do to let it fall into anybody's hands. Blood magic was a powerful tool and one that he didn't want Harry to get caught up in. 

He also cast a cleaning charm on Harry; the young man had debris and dust from the cave-in all over him. He really couldn't blame Harry for flying off the handle, even though it was unusual for him to lose control so completely. The Magical Aptitude Tests had been an utter disaster for Harry and a triumph for Dumbledore. No wonder Harry hadn't wanted it spread all over the school, which the Weasley boy had done. 

Most students only scored around 200, with some of the more intelligent ones scoring about 250. Severus himself had done exceptionally well when he'd taken them. He'd scored 463, a statistic that had made the Dark Lord very interested in him and had made his father drool at the thought of Severus getting into the Inner Circle at such a young age. Harry's score was a testament to his ability and potential as Tom Riddle himself had only managed to get 524. Rumour had it that even Dumbledore had only got around 350 and then had boosted his power when he defeated Grindelwald. 

Unfortunately anyone with a score over 300 was placed on the Ministry's 'People to watch out for' list. Severus had only escaped Azkaban by agreeing to work for Dumbledore. His potion skills made him highly valuable. Then again, he might enjoy working at Hogwarts a little more if he actually had some freedom. Dumbledore was just another master like the Dark Lord and Severus was eagerly anticipating the day they were finally taken down.

It was with a heavy heart that he did his next task; he knew that Harry wouldn't just submit to what Dumbledore was planning and would in all likelihood only end up hurting himself unnecessarily. The Slytherin in him would tell him to acquiesce for the time being and go on the offensive as soon as he had a plan but the slayer side of Harry wouldn't let him. He'd fight and strain against the bonds and as much as it pained Severus to do this to him, it would be better than giving Dumbledore a reason to harm him again. 

Removing two more vials from his robes, he fed them to Harry. One was a potion to make him lethargic and sluggish and the other was to cloud his senses so that he wouldn't be able to think straight. It would also serve to deaden his nerves, and hopefully any pain that Dumbledore's spell would inflict on him. 

Gently manoeuvring Harry's limbs into position, he fastened the strong, magically reinforced leather straps around Harry's wrists, ankles and torso. He couldn't loosen them any, Dumbledore would only check them and any allowances on Severus' part would come back to haunt him.

Brushing a soft kiss against Harry's cheek, he stood up and left the room, inwardly damning Dumbledore to hell.

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*

Harry shifted restlessly in his drug and spell induced slumber as his mind was seized by an outside force. 

^^^^^Dream sequence^^^^^

He was standing in the middle of a giant chessboard. Voldemort and his followers at one side in black, Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix opposite them in blinding white. He looked down at himself and found he was exactly in the middle, clad in grey. The symbolism couldn't be ignored. 

Someone slipped an arm around his waist, warm breath tickling his ear, he stiffened, hands automatically flying to the stake in the waistband of his trousers but a strong hand clamped around his wrists, bringing them around until they were in front of his stomach once more. "None of that now," said the stranger in a silky baritone. Harry knew he recognised that voice from somewhere but he just couldn't place it. "Just watch and understand," the voice continued. Harry found himself relaxing almost involuntarily, as he was cradled against a strong chest. For some reason, this didn't affect him as much as it would have if he had been awake. Chalking it up to the dream, he began to pay attention as he suspected that this was one of those weird prophetic slayer dreams. 

Almost as if sensing his interest, the chess pieces began to move. With a sudden awareness, he realised that it was a simplified version of the current war. The board was showing the current position of the various players and pawns. He tried to move but the stranger behind him held him back, "You can't move until you decide which side you're on," he said. 

Harry was confused, "What do you mean?"

"You're on the board too," the voice purred, "You must choose whether to be a player or a pawn. Both sides want you with them but do you wish to go with them?"

Voldemort smirked at him from his side of the board, "Kill a few people and they call you a murderer. Kill a million and you're a conqueror," he said, "I can make you great. No one could match us."

Dumbledore spoke next, "He killed your parents. You have a duty to avenge them. I can help you there."

Harry looked at them in disbelief, surely that wasn't the best arguments that they could come up with. Before he could respond, the scenery changed and the board disappeared, to be replaced by a dark graveyard, filled with ominous fog. Obviously whatever caused these dreams happened to like clichés. A hand brushed against his cheek and he realised the newly dubbed 'mystery man' was still there and still holding him. "You're being hunted," he whispered. 

"By who?" 

"Everybody. And no one."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"It will."

Another figure stepped out of the shadows, and Harry recognised him immediately. Angel or more rightly Angelus. "Hello slayer," he drawled, "are you ready for me yet?" Once more Harry didn't get a chance to answer as the Scourge of Europe disappeared. 

The man holding him spoke up, "It's coming. But you're not ready. You have to rely on your intuition or he'll rule you."

"Who's he?" Harry asked warily, "And for that matter, who are you?"

"As to whom I speak, I cannot tell and as for me, you'll find out in time."

"I'm not exactly the most patient of people," Harry snapped.

The man nuzzled his neck, "Perhaps not. But you are young yet, with much to learn." Harry gasped as sharp fangs pricked his neck, a vampire! But the man behind him had a heartbeat; he could hear and feel its rhythm. "Calm down," the man said, "Not everything is as it seems and not all who are Dark are Evil." 

"Vampires don't have souls. They are demons and I dust them. Now let me go."

The man/vampire tightened his hold on the slayer, "Who said I was a vampire? I'm not dead, I have a soul and I don't drink blood. How can you tell me what I am?"

"Why do I feel like trusting you?"

"Because you can."

"Why are you here?"

"That's not for me to say."

"You're not helping, you know."

"Again, that's up to you." He traced the famous lightning bolt scar with his fingers, "And the Lightning shall strike," he murmured, brushing the bangs out of Harry's face. "We know who we are, but not what we may be." he continued softly, "Things will become clear. You just have to see." 

Overall Harry felt that this dream was quite ominous but the stranger reassured him with gentle touches and a strong, comforting presence, which also succeeded in completely bewildering him. Pale hands turned him around and his mouth was captured in a searing kiss before he could make out the man's features....

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Harry's dream ended unexpectedly and his restless movements gave way to the drugs in his system, dragging him down into a deep, dreamless slumber.

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~

The head of the aurors skidded into Fudge's office. "Minister," he gasped, "There's been a disturbance at Hogwarts!" 

Fudge looked up from his desk, momentarily abandoning his game of Exploding Snap. "What?! Don't be a fool man! That's impossible!"

"I can assure you it is sir, Harry Potter sta..."

"Harry Potter!" Fudge interrupted, "He's not been sprouting nonsense to the press again, has he?"

"No sir, Potter caused the disturbance. He..."

Once again the auror was cut off by Fudge, "Disturbance? What sort of disturbance? Why can't you say what you mean instead of going about it in such a roundabout way?"

Head Auror Pemberley sighed, he had thought that convincing the Minister for Magic would be a problem; he hadn't thought that it would be so hard to actually get him to listen though. "Minister," he began cautiously, "Mr Potter went into some sort of fit and blew the roof off of the Great Hall at Hogwarts." He braced himself for the inevitable explosion.

"WHAT?!" Fudge yelled, "How in Merlin's name did that happen? Where is the boy now? Oh dear, how am I going to explain this to the press?!" he whined.

"We're not quite sure what happened sir, but we do know that Headmaster Dumbledore brought Potter under control and is keeping an eye on him."

"Was it Dark Magic?"

"It would seem so. Few other things would have caused such an... effect."

"The Daily Prophet is going to skin me alive for letting him stay at that school," Fudge moaned, dropping his head into his hands. "I _knew_ he was the one helping He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

"Minister," Pemberley said, "myself and the rest of the aurors feel that the Potter boy is a threat. Action needs to be taken."

"Yes, yes, I quite agree."

"We think that Potter should be expelled and sent to Azkaban."

"I've been wanting to put him there since his fourth year," Fudge said, "What does Dumbledore plan on doing with him?"

"We don't know sir, Hogwarts has been hard to contact. They have been trying to repair the damage."

"Well, let him handle it then! You can go and see what he wants to do and then do whatever you feel like to Potter. I cannot allow him to go unpunished, I would be impeached!"

"That's all I ask Minister."

"Is that all then?"

He received a nod, "Well go then! I've got to get a hold of Rita Skeeter!"

Pemberley nodded again and left the office, heading for the fireplace in the lobby.

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~

The Order of the Phoenix, at Dumbledore's behest, gathered in the cell, crimson robes on and hoods up, disguising their features. The bed had been moved into the centre of the room, with a small stone pedestal situated two feet away from it. 

On that bed lay Harry Potter, still under the influence of the potions given to him. Dumbledore moved up to the pedestal, carrying in his arms a round glass orb. He held it gently, not wanting to damage the powerful object. This was a famed Orb of Thessulah, mainly used in magic that dealt with souls. 

And that's what they were here tonight for. The Boy-Who-Lived had to be brought under control. And the best way to start was to bind the boy's magic. Without it, he would have no choice but to follow their orders. The problem was that Potter's magic was deep-rooted, bound to his very soul the day he reflected the Killing curse. That's where the orb came in. It was the only thing powerful enough to channel and contain the raw energy.

But they had to wait until Potter was somewhat conscious before beginning the ritual. They waited in silence until the object of their attention began to move restlessly, head lolling from side to side. Dumbledore, still standing by the pedestal, placed the orb on its marble surface and went to Harry's bedside. 

Harry winced as he moved his head. It felt like he had been hit over the head with a boulder. A very _large_ boulder. His head was fuzzy and his thought processes seemed excessively slow for some reason. Wracking his brain, he tried to figure out what was going on but try as he might, he kept coming up empty.

He tried reaching out with his senses, which came back with something that made the adrenalin flow through his veins and his brain to temporarily overcome the fog that filled it. He was tied down! Thick leather straps held him in place and immediately, he realised that this wasn't a good thing.

Trying to undo his bindings, he came to the terrifying realisation that he couldn't move his arms, couldn't even make his limbs twitch. He had obviously been given something to prevent him moving and a quick check told him that he had little to zero chance of using his magic effectively. 

The odd lethargy and fuzziness probably meant that he'd been drugged or something. And thinking straight was getting harder by the minute. He remembered everything now, the incident in the Great Hall, the duel with Dumbledore, and the urge to kill the headmaster, which was growing by the minute. What was the old coot playing at?

He opened his eyes, almost instantly shutting them again as the bright light seared into his eyeballs and added to his ever growing list of woe. Tentatively he opened them again, despairing at how difficult it was to keep them open. His eyelids felt like lead and his body was urging him to sleep. The first thing he made out were rows of hooded figures, not Death Eaters in their all black uniforms but the Order of the Phoenix in crimson red, the colour of blood. 

He could make out Dumbledore nearest to him but it was the next thing he saw that made him panic. The Orb of Thessulah. Oh no, they couldn't.... it was illegal, wrong and could be lethal to him. Unfortunately he wasn't in any fit state to prevent them from doing what they wished. 

He couldn't believe the Order of the Phoenix would do something like this; even Voldemort and the Death Eaters hadn't stooped so low. He could hear a low chanting in the background and he strained to make out the words, recognising the language as Latin. As the intent of the spell became clear, his anger rose to new heights and the force of it seemed to help clear the mist out of his head. Gathering his wavering energies, he tried to do something to stop them, _anything_ to stop them. But it wasn't working and the light from the orb reached out to encompass him. 

There was a burning fire racing under his skin, inflaming his nerves and making him writhe in agony. It was worse than his visions of Voldemort, worse than crucio, worse than any of the Unforgivables. It ripped through his very being, leaving no place untouched or unscathed. He was going to kill them for this, he thought as he felt his energy drain out of him like he was a giant sieve. 

The last thing he saw before he passed out was a blinding flash of red light.

Severus watched as Harry began to wake up, fighting the potions that should have kept him in oblivion. Dumbledore waved his wand and began to chant, activating the orb's power. It flared white as Harry's eyes opened. Severus wished he could help the downed slayer but it would only hurt them both more in the long run. 

He knew the full extent of what the headmaster was doing and he knew Harry would be livid once he too found out the repercussions. Dumbledore continued chanting, droning on as the light from the orb went to Harry.

The slayer's body was covered in the red glow, a thick, pulsing red link forming between him and the orb. The link was draining the majority of Harry's magic, pulling it inside the orb and trapping it there. He knew it had to be immensely painful, especially considering how in tune Harry was with his magic. 

The light began to glow brighter and brighter until there was a brilliant red flash that made dark spots dance in front of everyone's eyes. Blinking away the disorientation, he focused on Harry once more, noticing that he was again dead to the world. Thank Merlin he didn't have to be awake for the next part, Severus thought, he dreaded to even think what Harry would have done in the desperation that would have seized him.

Because Dumbledore wasn't finished yet. There were still a few things up his sleeve, none of which benefited Harry in any way but all benefited Dumbledore.

The Branding.

It had been used very times in history because of the eventual consequences for the victim. It allowed the Head of the Order of the Phoenix to control the person bearing the Brand. It was worse than even the Dark Mark; Voldemort did not demand absolute control of his followers, like Dumbledore was trying to do with Harry.

The Phoenix Brand was similar to an advanced form of Imperius, except it couldn't be broken by force of will. As long as Harry bore that brand, he would have no choice except to obey Dumbledore's commands. Severus was sure Harry would try and fight it but unless he figured out how to remove the cursed thing, all his efforts would be useless.

Dumbledore placed the tip of his wand on Harry's left arm, just above his wrist. He spoke the incantation solemnly, but Severus was sure he picked up a gleeful note under the sombre facade. 

There was a smell of smouldering flesh as the Mark burned itself into the soft flesh. A scarlet phoenix with its wings spread was the image, a halo of flames surrounding it in an intricately woven pattern. 

Dumbledore inspected his work with satisfaction and with a flick of his wand the bindings holding Harry down were removed. He motioned for everyone to leave and Severus did so reluctantly, casting a glance back at the unconscious boy, as of yet unaware of his fate. Dumbledore picked up the orb, now lit with a greenish-black light – the colour of Harry's magic – and carried it out of the room.

The door silently swung shut and locked behind them.

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

When Harry came to next, he first noticed that there was a throbbing pain in his arm. Sitting up, he blearily rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and then took a look around the unfamiliar room. He started as his sleep-fogged brain prodded his memory, which filled him in on his situation. 

Slightly panicky, he tried to change his clothes with his magic. It didn't work. Getting more and more alarmed, he tried various other forms like levitation, conjuring, transfiguration, but nothing worked. 

The Orb of Thessulah had done its job then. Dumbledore was going to die for this, he vowed. Inspecting his arm for the source of his pain, he nearly had a heart attack when he saw the Brand. That _couldn't_ be what he thought it was!

Dumbledore had just been upgraded from simple death to being 'accidentally' left in the lair of a bunch of flesh-eating ghouls, without his wand. Or perhaps he'd just tie him up with some bright ribbon and send him to Voldemort with a card saying, "Torture! Kill! Do whatever you feel like with him, just kill him!"

He was nobody's servant. Unfortunately the Brand kinda said otherwise. He had to get his hands on that orb. There was no other way to get rid of this damned tattoo and get his magic back. Of course, he had o find out where it was first and in the meantime Albus Soon-Going-To-Be-Sleeping-With-The-Fishes Dumbledore was going to be bossing him around the place as if he was lower than a house elf!

He scrambled out of the bed, and began searching for the exit. He found it with his senses but the minute he tried to open it, a powerful shield barrier was thrown up. Harry nearly wept with frustration, how dare they do this to him!

"I AM _NOT_ AN ANIMAL TO BE CAGED!" he bellowed, throwing himself against the shield. This had no effect on the barrier so he slid down along it, sinking to the floor and hugging his knees to his chest. It seemed all he could do was wait.

Harry had drifted into a light doze when the door opened and someone passed through the barrier. He looked up hopefully but scowled when he saw the tall figure of Professor Snape come towards him. There wasn't going to be any help from that quarter. 

"Potter," his voice called. Harry stubbornly refused to look at him. "Potter!" Snape called again, sounding rather strained. Probably didn't want to be breathing the same air as him, Harry thought bitterly.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, "Potter.... Harry. Listen to me." Snape began, stumbling over Harry's name. 

The slayer glared at him, "Why should I bother? Here to taunt me over my forced servitude professor?" he said nastily. 

Snape sighed, "I'm not here to harm you or taunt you, I'm here to help you."

"Help me? You hate me!" Harry exclaimed, remembering the many years of cruel and sarcastic remarks in Potions class. 

"I never hated you." Snape said softly. "I don't agree with Dumbledore and I am bound to him just as much as you are now."

"Yeah right. Is he telling you to say this?"

"You don't believe me? Why do you think I rarely leave the grounds? Out of choice? Most certainly not. You know I'm a spy for the Order. If I step out of line, Dumbledore will expose me to Voldemort and have me carted off to Azkaban by the Ministry. He'd make sure I wouldn't survive long, most likely he'd make them give me the Kiss."

Harry listened intently; it made a lot of sense. "Why are you here?"

"Like I said; to help you. Your arm must be paining you. I brought a salve for it," he said, handing over a small jar. 

Harry accepted it hesitantly, "Thank you."

"It's not a problem. There are a few things you should know; only Dumbledore can use the Mark to control you, though Voldemort probably could if he got his hands on you. You can't leave the Hogwarts grounds and you will only be able to access a limited amount of magic with your wand. No wandless spells anymore."

Harry looked surprised, "Wandless? How did you know that?"

"I know a lot of things about you."

"Do you know anything about the Orb of Thessulah?"

"Only that Dumbledore is planning on using it. Why?"

"I need to find it to unbind my magic."

Snape nodded, "I have to go. Dumbledore will wonder where I am. I would appreciate it if you mentioned this to no one."

"Naturally. I'm hardly the most popular person at the moment."

Snape stood just beside the barrier, "You're not powerless you know. You're still the slayer," he said before going, leaving Harry with one question - What the hell had just happened here?

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

At the Riddle House, Voldemort reread Lucius' letter for the third time.

_My Lord,_

_I have just received some rather interesting news from Cornelius Fudge. He says that Potter blew up the roof of the Great Hall at Hogwarts and that Dumbledore has marked him with the Phoenix Brand. Severus has already confirmed it on his end. _

_Your loyal servant,_

_Lucius Malfoy._

Voldemort couldn't believe his luck. That left Harry Potter defenceless. With a few alterations that Brand would work for him and he would have the infamous Boy-Who-Lived as one of his Death Eaters. 

Rising from his seat, he went to set his plans in motion. It was time to strike.

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

The next day the Wizarding world was thrown into uproar when Rita Skeeter published her latest article in the Daily Prophet. It read: -

**_Harry Potter – Boy-Who-Lived and confirmed Dark Lord! Ministry forced to take drastic measures!_**

_Harry Potter, who defeated You-Know-Who as a baby and was present at his resurrection a year and a half ago, has been confirmed to be a Dark Wizard. Just yesterday, in an unprovoked attack, Mr Potter blew up the roof of the Great Hall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The hall was full of students at the time, and they barely escaped with their lives. Headmaster of Hogwarts and Head of the Order of the Phoenix bravely faced down the rampaging Mr Potter and after a fierce duel brought him down._

_Mr Potter has been showing signs of the Dark Arts for some time. And it must be speculated if the late Hogwarts Triwizard champion, Cedric Diggory was indeed killed by You-Know-Who or Potter himself. We, at the Daily Prophet have warned the wizarding public of Potter's strange fits, his need for attention and his mental instability and it greatly saddens us to be proven right in this case. A known Parselmouth – an ability associated with Salazar Slytherin himself, as well as You-Know-Who – Potter has been involved in a number of strange incidents at Hogwarts, most notably the duel with You-Know-Who at the end of the school term last year. With the new evidence coming to light, this reporter believes that this was a prearranged, staged duel between Harry Potter and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to try and fool the unsuspecting public._

_Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge was kind enough to spare a few words for us with regards to this matter, "It is a very serious situation. One that we are dealing with. The proper measures have already been taken and a full investigation is underway. I cannot stress how dangerous Harry Potter is, it has been revealed that he helped the notorious convict, Sirius Black, who escaped from Azkaban in the boy's third year. It was due to Potter's efforts that Black escaped from the Dementors who had him in Ministry custody and he has no doubt been helping him whilst on the run. There is no doubt in my mind that Black and Potter are solely responsible for the return of You-Know-Who and are his right hand men."_

_Albus Dumbledore has said that Mr Potter will remain at Hogwarts for the time being with several restrictions placed on him. Potter has apparently been marked with the Phoenix Brand, which will allow Headmaster Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic to keep him under control. After they have acquired any information that he has on the whereabouts of You-Know-Who, he will be sent to Azkaban and will almost certainly receive the Dementors' Kiss. _

_As for this reporter, I believe that we placed too much faith in Harry Potter and should acknowledge him for what he is, - one of the most favoured Death Eaters in You-Know-Who's ranks. _

_Rita Skeeter._

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

A week had gone by since that article had come out and the Great Hall was completely repaired. Nothing had changed, the room looked like it had never caved in. Ah, the wonders of magic...

Harry's life was pretty much a living hell, and from him, that was saying something. Everybody skirted around him fearfully while those who knew the full effects of the Brand – basically anyone who had relatives in the Ministry and then whoever the gossip was passed on to – had taken to taunting him at every opportunity. 

The faculty treated him like a rabid animal, with Dumbledore acting like he was a pet who had misbehaved. Harry felt so weak, and it drove his anger to new heights. He could still _feel_ the deep well of magic inside him but he couldn't access it; it was infuriating!

Ethan Rayne had been ridiculed and mocked him every time he saw him, content in the knowledge that the slayer couldn't keep his promise to eviscerate him anymore.

Weasley had gotten his Prefect badge after it had been stripped from him – of course Harry still had to do the blasted Halloween decorations, wouldn't want Weasley to break a nail, would we? - and had begun to abuse his power – not that anyone cared when the victim was Harry – and had issued more punishments for imaginary infractions than anyone else in the school's history. Even Snape wouldn't take points for being too quiet. 

Snape.

There was another problem. The man was an enigma. An enigma that knew Harry was the Vampire Slayer. So very not good. Snape had said he didn't like Dumbledore but what about Voldemort? He didn't know where the Potions Master's loyalties lied and that was very worrying when he held such valuable information for Harry.

Surprisingly enough, the professor hadn't insulted him as much this year, nor issued as many detentions as in previous terms but he had still managed to get Harry worked up more than anyone else had managed. Harry hadn't forgotten the strange aura that belonged to the man and that, coupled with this new information, had Harry quite nervous. He was vulnerable and exposed and he knew it. The knowledge Snape had could mean Harry's death.

And what had he meant when he said he didn't hate Harry? He had _always_ hated Harry. It was an unwritten rule at Hogwarts. 

He couldn't figure it out and that just got Harry even more frustrated.

He was so, so angry. He could practically feel the boiling rage under his skin, like it was magma and he was a volcano about to erupt. Normally he would have done something to get rid of his fury, he probably would have gone on a demon slaying frenzy. And that would have been the end of it. 

Now, now he couldn't do that and he could sense it growing, seething and simmering inside him, just below the surface. Harry was getting seriously worried, that much power building up without any release would only cause trouble. He had already written to Wesley, hopefully his resourceful watcher would find him some way out of this mess.

His dream-vision thingies from Voldemort were getting worse since he now couldn't use magic to ease the pain. Fawkes had had to help him every night since he had gotten the Brand and Harry now got barely four hours of sleep a night – if he was lucky.

Speaking of the devil, Fawkes alighted beside him with the items he had asked the phoenix to get for him, - the Sorting Hat and Godric Gryffindor's sword. He figured that the best somewhat living – and willing – source of archaic facts would be the Sorting Hat, since it had been created by the Four Founders. 

Thanking the phoenix and stroking his gold and red plumage, he picked up the hat. He missed talking to Fawkes, now that his magic was restrained so were his animagus forms. They were there, he just couldn't use them. 

Sighing he placed the hat on his head and waited for it to acknowledge him. It didn't take long. 

"Well what do we have here? Back again Potter? This is the fourth time I've spoken with you."

"Third," Harry corrected, "And I need help. That's why I'm here."

"Oh yes, you've got quite the little thirst for revenge, don't you? a bigger thirst for freedom though. You most certainly don't like rules much."

"Not unless they're my rules," Harry muttered, "Will you help me?"

"Sorry. Can't."

"What do you mean can't?!"

"I mean you've got to help yourself get out of this one. You really should have listened to me before, you know."

"Gee, thanks for the advice," the slayer said sarcastically, "I cannot believe that's the best you can come up with."

"Oh, it's not. I _can_ see inside your head. A lot of interesting information in there, there is."

"You're hopeless."

"No, just uncooperative. You won't be like this for long little slayer. Trust me on that." the hat said and Harry growled under his breath in aggravation, ripping the hat off his head and throwing it across the room. Why couldn't anything be simple? he thought in despair.

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

Time passed quickly for Ethan Rayne. Before he knew it, it was the day before the Halloween ball, - the day he was supposed to get Angelus through the wards. He had been so caught up in his plans for the ball that the date had nearly slipped his mind. The 'entertainment' he had planned was similar to what he'd tried in Sunnydale a few years ago but for Ethan, the fun in it still hadn't worn off and he was eager to try it again. It was going to be a night to remember, that's for sure.

Scribbling a quick note to Angelus, he slipped the plans to get inside the wards into an envelope and tied it to the waiting barn owl. It was all up to the vampire now. If Ethan was lucky, he still might get out of this alive. He hoped.

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

Angelus stepped out of one of the secret passages and into the halls of Hogwarts. Thanks to the charm Ethan had sent, the magical wards couldn't pick up on him. The result of his planning was near. Smirking, he strolled leisurely along the corridors, intent on seeking out his prey – the Slayer....

~*~*~*~**~*~***~*~*~*~**~**~*~*

A/N: I so hoped you liked this chapter! The quote, "Kill a few people and they call you a murderer. Kill a million and you're a conqueror," comes from 'Cliffhanger'.

I used 'magma' instead of 'lava' in reference to the volcano because lava is called magma when it is under the surface, before it erupts basically.

I'm thinking of writing a new story where Harry is a convict on the run. One problem though, I can't decide on a pairing, so if you could please tell me what pairing you'd like to see when you review, it would be much appreciated. Thanks!

Asha.


	6. And White Splits the Night

HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**Author's notes**: Thanks for reviewing! I am _so_ sorry about the delay but I got a really bad chest infection and then my little sister went into the hospital – she's currently on her _fourth_ stay since I last updated. *shakes head* If I have to see one more hospital… Also my computer decided to eat all my notes for this fic so it was back to the proverbial drawing board. _And_ I have another story up and running. Again I apologise for the atrocious delay. 

Of course I'm very lucky this was an AU in the first place as the fifth book came out (it's _so_ good by the way!) and completely obliterated the plots to most of the fifth year fics in existence. So I plan to stick to canon as much as possible but I doubt a lot of the fifth book will be coming into this and if it does it will probably only be mentioned in passing. Though I have to admit the whole 'Snivellus' nickname? So not nice. And as a spoiler for future chapters, poor Sev will _not_ be a geek who gets picked on by James Potter and Sirius Black. I'm thinking of a more 'you-hit-me-and-I-hit-back' type of relationship there. Can I just say again how sorry I am about the delay on this chapter? Do read and review!!! 

_LeopardDance_ – Thank you for reviewing! About the hat, yes there is a connection. Fawkes is only one little bird, how much can he do? About Harry's Halloween costume, read on and see.

_Lynlyn_ – Thanks for adding me to your favourite stories list! *Jumps around in glee.* Don't worry, Harry's not going to be restricted for long. *Grins evilly* I have many, many things planned for him, revenge included. I'm glad you like my version of Dumbledore and the chessboard idea. Keep on reviewing! :)

_Queen of Vegetasei_ – Of course Draco has to be mean, he's not really going to play a big part in this story so why bother changing him? Whatever gave you the impression that Sev had fangs? And no, nothing of Anne Rice is coming into this story. I can see what you mean about Galadriel, *shudders*, very freaky and definitely disturbing. No LotR, though I am working on a LotR/BtVS crossover called 'A Light to You In Dark Places', which has a few chapters already posted. *Shameless plugging!* What do you mean JK Rowling is putting Hermione and Harry together?!!! I thought it was Hermione and Ron!! Have I been misinformed or am I just out of the loop? Thanks to adding me to your fave's list. Do keep reviewing! Please?

_Jewelclaw Lady of Wind_ – I really made you cry? Wow. I happen to _like_ leaving evil cliffhangers so expect quite a few more in the future. *Laughs sadistically* Ummm, just try not to kill me. I'm after getting enough threats already. Yes, Harry will get out of his entrapment. Eventually. Will Angelus find him and kill him? Read on and see. Am I going to kill off Dumbledore? Hmmm, *looks at Harry, who is nodding* Well, Harry would probably like to but since I'm the author, I'm in charge and I quite frankly do not have a clue. Maybe.

_Gryphnwng_ – On the edge of your seat? How uncomfortable. Make sure you don't fall off! Thanks for the review! They mean a helluva lot to me! Geo major huh? Well the lava/magma thing is hardly the most taxing thing to remember. Kinda easy really.

_Seer-cassandra –_ I *know* you have a new story in the works! Post it already!

_Jenni_ – Thanks for agreeing with me on that point. Besides if you read through the books Harry has always been protective of his friends, just look at Sirius!

_Sylph-san_ – Thanks for the great review! About the gang from Sunnydale, they will mostly be minor characters, as I'm trying to keep it mainly within the Harry Potter genre but certain people from Sunnydale _will_ be making appearances. As for the idea about the orb, I can't take credit for the name as that came from Buffy – it was used for giving Angel his soul back – but as for it's other capabilities, those came purely from my imagination. I am _so_ glad you like this story! Keep reviewing!

_Fate's Child_ – I don't want to give away too much of the future plot but in answer to your question, it's very likely.

_CrimsonNoble _- *Blushes* Thank you _so_ much for the flattering review. It's nice to know that I'm doing this right. As of for the orb, there will be more details given about it but it can't physically take a person's power so your barrier theory is more accurate. Review again!

_Stormy1x2_ – Sorry that I haven't sold you on the Ron and Hermione thing so I'm gonna try and convince you with a few arguments. First off, he initially broke it off with them to protect them. But they _are_ only sixteen and Ron is not exactly the sharpest tool around. He's been known to blow up at Harry because of jealousy before. Remember the fourth book? Hermione would be offended and naturally back up her boyfriend. They went to Dumbledore, and let's face it; of course they are going to believe Dumbledore. So they get angry at Harry's behaviour and constant brush-offs and begin to take their anger out on him. Harry then gets angry with them and it escalates from there. Remember that Harry would be considerably more mature than Ron and Hermione, after all neither of them has _ever_ met Voldemort, only Harry has. They are still children while Harry is nearing adult mentality due to his responsibilities. Both sides see things differently and therefore their relationship falls to pieces quickly. I hope that clears things up for you! And I'm glad that you like this story anyway!

_Kylie_ – Do I really come across as being that evil? 

_Carneol_ – Thanks for reviewing! You're quite the perceptive reader! Glad you liked my characterisations!

_AJaKe_ – Thanks for being so interested!!

_Mayon_ – Your review was one of the most complimentary reviews I've ever received! Thank you so much! It's hard to believe that my fic affected you that way! 

_Fage of Hyren – _If Remus kills me, no more fic!

_Dreams of Magic_ – Here's the update! Sorry for making you – and everyone – wait! J Yes Harry will show up at the dance. Angelus is going to cause _lots_ of disturbances and chaos in this fic and Ethan will get what's coming to him. And you're absolutely spot on with regards to the Buffy episode. Ethan likes causing chaos but I don't see him as original enough – or powerful enough – to have a different trick each time. 

_Muggle_ – I thank you for the highest compliment a fanfiction writer can get.

_FantasyChick_ – You're so sweet! Sending me two identical reviews! It's nice to see somebody so enthusiastic! I sincerely hope you haven't died yet as a ghost haunting me would be highly inconvenient! And as for your question, it's answered in this chapter.

And thanks to the others that reviewed: J

_Lady Phoenix Gryffindor_

R.C 

_Majikgurl_

_Lunar_scythe_

_Glimmer_

_Tempest_

Chosentwo4381 Scarlett 

_Fan_

Serapotter 

_Lukaret _

_Potter-man_

_Arizosa_

_izean _

_fan _

_blah_

_blackunicorn_

_Lokia_

_Sadie-IceBlade_

**CHAPTER 6: AND WHITE SPLITS THE NIGHT**

_My candle burns at both ends;  
It will not last the night;  
But oh my foes and oh my friends-  
It gives a lovely light.  
 - Edna St. Vincent Millay_

Harry got very little rest that night, even when he downed a sleeping potion, the restlessness continued to plague him. Unknown warnings skittered along his nerves and drove him to distraction. Something was coming and he could do nothing to stop it. Even in his dreams did that become clear to him....

^^^^^Dream sequence^^^^^

The chessboard was back. Harry wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. 

At first glance it looked the same as before but upon further inspection, he saw that some of the pieces had moved. The black and white kings were moving closer to each other, closer to confrontation. He himself was in the same position he had held in his last dream but the grey colour that tinted him was becoming more black than grey. 

A faint voice, barely more than a whisper, was carried on the wind, bearing a message that sounded incomplete and garbled at best. "Chosen… bound by blood… the Hidden World… foundations of… Death… fall to blood… must fall…"

Not exactly the nicest message in the world. 

"Have you chosen yet Slayer?" came a voice from behind him. It seemed mystery guy was back. Remembering the _very_ disconcerting events of last time, he tried to slowly back away from him, but was stopped by a chastising voice, "Ah, ah, ah. No moving until you decide. Remember?" the stranger admonished as he advanced. 

"Chosen what?" Harry asked, trying to keep his apprehension from showing.

"Chosen sides of course. You can't have forgotten already," the man said in a mildly amused tone. 

"Who are you?"

"As I said before; you'll find out in time."

"Not good enough. I want to know _now_." Harry demanded. 

"You have bigger things to worry about," he said cryptically. 

"Besides the strange guy haunting my dreams?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"You should have chosen a side."

"You're not back to that are you? It is getting _so_ annoying. Perhaps if someone actually gave me some _information_ instead of vague ramblings I'd be able to make up my mind."

"You are too late. Circumstance has chosen for you."

"What?"

"You must go now. Your time is come." Without any more warning, the stranger hidden in the shadows disappeared and Harry had one last look at the chessboard before he was yanked back to the waking world. Even as he was dragged from slumber, he registered shock at what he could now make out…

For he'd seen something that shook him more than he would ever admit…

A dark army was massing behind the Dark Lord. And beside Voldemort, another King was beginning to take shape…

^^^^End sequence^^^^^^

~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*

Ares glared imperiously at the snake cowering before him. A Basilisk wasn't known as the King of Serpents for nothing. 

"You sssay that Dumbledore hurt the young massster?"

"With a knife. The massster told me to tell you."

"I sssee why. Leave, I will deal with thisss." 

"Yesss Lord." The small serpent slithered away from the chamber and Ares turned to a shadow in the dark gloom. 

"Any ideasss?"

A deep voice answered, the person's body so obscured by the darkness as to be unrecognisable. "He isss resssourceful. I am sssure he will think of sssomething."

"You would leave him to hisss own devicesss?" Ares asked in surprise.

"I can do nothing asss thingsss ssstand. Let him be. He will prove himssself worthy. I am sssure of it."

"Asss you wisssh."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*

Harry feeling like he was being stalked all day. It began even before he woke up. He hadn't slept well, - curse those blasted dreams! – and now his slayer sense kept tingling even though he could find nothing that would set it off. It was like an itch that he just couldn't scratch, contributing to his already substantial headache. 

He had lost track of the number of howlers he'd received from angry witches and wizards in response to Skeeter's articles. The sniggering that followed in their wake was enough to make him consider murder. It wouldn't be that hard to lure a nest of vamps into the school, he thought wistfully. Unfortunately that really went against the ethics of a slayer and he had more than enough enemies as it was.

The control Dumbledore had over him was galling. He _hated_ being treated like a rabid dog on a leash, it reminded him _way_ too much of the Dursleys. Those thrice-damned fools of muggles. 

He stormed through the halls, wearing an expression that could be likened to an ominous thunderstorm. Dumbledore had ever so kindly sent for him, more like summoned him and he had no choice but to go. The Brand made sure of that. What Dumbledore wanted now, he wasn't quite clear on but it only wasted his valuable time. Time better spent on finding out how to weasel his way out of Dumbledore's little bear trap.

Waiting for him in the Headmaster's office was Dumbledore, Snape, Fudge, two grim-looking aurors and a very smug Lucius Malfoy. Uh-oh, Harry thought, no better make that a big uh-oh. This couldn't be good. 

"Ah Mr Potter, do have a seat," Dumbledore said graciously and Harry felt his limbs moving to obey without any prompting from him. The minute he was in the proffered chair, the unknown aurors flanked him. Again. Not good.

"Mr Potter," Dumbledore began, "It would seem that we have several questions that need answering." Nope, Harry amended, this wasn't just bad, this was bloody terrible. What if Snape had told them?... That would screw him royally. 

Fudge looked at him with beady little eyes as Dumbledore continued to ramble on, "The Minister here has kindly agreed to authorise and witness this little session. And he has brought up the rather valid point that you can't be trusted to provide accurate information of your own accord so other means must be used...." 

Harry was beginning to see where this was going and risked a slightly nervous glance at Snape. The Potions Master. A potions master who could make Veritaserum. Oh yes, Harry thought, this was shaping up to be a perfectly crappy day. Now, if he could only just figure out a way to circumvent that damned truth potion... preferably without letting slip he was the slayer. Who cared if Snape had accused him? He'd deny everything and he didn't plan on letting any of his extracurricular activities come to light. Besides, Snape was a Death Eater spy; his word wasn't worth much more than Harry's.

He was brought out of his thoughts when Snape stepped forward, a vial of clear liquid in his hand. The man's face was blank as he administered the required three drops to Harry and stepped back again. Harry blinked sluggishly as the potion kicked in, making his head feel all fuzzy like it was stuffed with cotton wool. And he was actually expected to _avoid_ questions like this? If he wasn't careful he'd end up spilling _everything_ and he really wasn't in the mood for Azkaban.

"Now Mr Potter, please state your full name."

"Harry James Potter."

"Where are we at the present moment?"

"In the headmaster's office at Hogwarts."

"I'll take over from here Headmaster," one of the aurors said. "Potter, are you anyway involved with the Dark Lord?"

"Yes." Harry said through gritted teeth, the potion forcing the answer from him. Both Dumbledore and Fudge leaned forward in their seats.

"How so?"

"I'm number one on his hit list."

"Did you help bring the Dark Lord back to life?"

"He never died."

"Did you help the Dark Lord return?" the auror snapped, not liking the boy's cheek even under a truth potion.

"Yes but not willingly."

"Are you helping the Dark Lord still?"

"No."

"Who are you loyal to?"

"Myself and my friends."

"What friends?"

"If I was sure of who they were I'd be a happy camper."

"Are you sure the potion's working?" Fudge burst in angrily. Severus glared at the Minister.

"My potions are _not_ faulty," he sneered.

The auror ignored them and resumed the questioning, "Do you have any loyalty to the Ministry?"

"None."

"Why?"

"They're all morons."

"Are you dangerous Mr Potter?"

"Everybody's dangerous."

"Would you say you pose a threat to others?"

"Voldemort thinks so." Harry privately relished the flinches from Fudge and the aurors at the mention of the Dark Lord's name.

"Are you involved in the Dark Arts?"

"Yes."

"Do you plan on stopping?"

"No."

"Do you plan on co-operating with the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix?"

"I don't have a choice."

"Would you do it willingly?"

"No."

"What is your mental condition?"

"Relatively sane I would hope."

"Do you have fits involving the Dark Lord."

"I have visions of him."

"So you are in league with him?" the auror said triumphantly.

"No I am not."

"But you are connected with him?"

"Yes."

"I think that should be enough for you Minister," the auror said, "He's just proved that he cannot be trusted. I vote that he should be arrested before he causes more harm."

"We will not discuss this here Worthington." Dumbledore said warningly, glancing at Harry. "Severus, please escort Mr Potter out of the office." 

The Potions Master scowled but stood up, "Come along Potter," he snapped. Harry looked warily at the remaining group who would be deciding whether he went to Azkaban or not before he followed Professor Snape down the stairs.

Once the two were gone Fudge rounded on the headmaster, "That boy is a menace. He should be locked up! He _must_ be locked up! The last thing we need is two Dark Lord's running about." Fudge said, shuddering at the very thought.

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully; "The Order will agree to release him to your custody as long as we do have access to him at Azkaban. No Dementor's kiss I'm afraid. We may need the information he provides."

"Right then. I'll get the appropriate paperwork and we'll come for him tomorrow." Some more details were negotiated and then Fudge swept out. Dumbledore reclined in his chair, tomorrow he would be rid of one problem and hopefully he could negate the other if their position became unfruitful. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*

After he and Snape parted at the entrance to Dumbledore's office, Harry headed to his room. He had no wish to be anywhere near anybody when the Veritaserum was still in effect and he had some substantial research into the Branding to do. Unfortunately for him, the Gods were having fine sport today and had no intention of letting him reach his safe haven unaccosted.

He hadn't gone down more than two corridors when an arm reached out of a classroom and yanked him in. He stumbled through the door, arms flailing as he tried to get his balance. Before he could attain it, the person who had done the yanking pushed him into a seat. Looking up, he found himself face to face with a livid Sirius Black. 

To look at him now, with a manic gleam in his blue eyes, Harry could really believe that he had been accused of murder. Staring at his godfather's half-crazed expression, Harry felt his heart drop to his stomach. He didn't think his godfather was here to help him. More like the opposite.

Sirius clenched his wand into a white-knuckled grip, wholly fixated on the boy before him. He couldn't believe that his godson, the same boy that he had held as a babe and bounced on his knee, the same boy that he and Prongs had joked about as being part of the second generation of Marauders, the same boy that he had come to love as his own son since his escape from Azkaban had betrayed him, betrayed the whole Wizarding world. That he had actually joined the murderous demon that had killed Lily and James Potter, his own _parents_!

He could see Lily and Prongs in Harry's face, in his personality, so like his father's or so he had thought. Now he had to look at those familiar features and know that this young man was a murderer, that he bowed down to the snake-faced creature that had tried to kill him so many times and worse; know that he'd gone willingly. 

"Why?" he asked brokenly, his heart bleeding at the betrayal and treachery that he was having difficulty associating with this boy.

Harry had considerable trouble answering the question thanks to the truth potion running rampant in his veins. That inability to respond was only compounded by the hurt that took the wind out of him like a punch to the gut. Sirius believed them, he didn't believe Harry.

That hurt, hurt in a way that Harry had never experienced before. Sirius was the only father figure he had ever known. Merlin knows Uncle Vernon hadn't been a good role model. And to have his surrogate father turn on him felt like he had been struck. That hurt was collecting and turning into an ugly, festering wound within his heart as he stared dumbly at Sirius' disappointed and grief-stricken face. 

"Sirius, I – I haven't done anything! I swear it! You have to believe me! Dumbledore is lying Siri! You _must_ believe me!" he cried, his voice catching on a sob at the last word, a sob that was viciously suppressed as he stared at the beloved visage of his godfather with pained, watery eyes. 

Sirius looked away, unable to bear looking at his godson anymore. "Why would Dumbledore lie Harry?" he said quietly, his voice agonizingly sad, "He's always kept an eye on you, tried to keep you out of trouble.... Oh Merlin Harry! You broke his heart... and mine. How could you?" His voice dropped to a bare whisper, "After Lily and James died to save you? How could you Harry? How could you do this to me?" 

Harry ruthlessly blinked back the tears threatening to fall, Vampire Slayers did _not_ cry, under _any_ circumstances. "None of what they say is true Siri, I would _never_ become a Death Eater! You know that! I would never do it! You _know_ me Siri!"

"Do I?" Sirius answered, "I look at you Harry and it's like I'm looking at a stranger. And I have to wonder; did I ever know you at all? Have you been playing with us all these years, toying with our feelings while you waited for your _Lord_," he fairly spat out the word, "to rise again?"

He began pacing the room, his resolve wavering as he saw silent tears roll down Harry's face. It was all a trick, he reminded himself, he's only trying to trick you. "I can't believe you are James' son. I refuse to believe it. You know what I think; I think Harry _did_ die that night. Who knows, perhaps you were a part of the Dark Lord that he left behind. You certainly _look_ enough like him. It would explain the Parseltongue, the Dark Arts, why you appeared to survive the Killing Curse..."

Harry felt his heart break, bit by painful bit. Did Sirius really believe that? Did he trust Dumbledore so much that he would believe his word over Harry's own? 

"Sirius," he choked out, "you can't think that! You can't! I love you! You're like a father to me! You _can't_ not believe me!" 

Despite his fierce attempts, his body shook with the force of his sobs. For a long time they were the only sound in the room, a harsh, wrenching weeping that tore the heart asunder. After a while Sirius spoke, "I can't do this. I can't. Don't come near me again Harry. I don't want to have to kill you. I will pray we never meet when you are in His service, I'm not sure if I could bring myself to kill you or turn you in to the Aurors... So I refuse to make the choice. From this moment, I have no godson... It's strange; I can't bring myself to hate you, though I know I should. You've become everything I despise, everything that I thought you despised as well; a lying, slaughtering Death Eater that will bring nothing but pain and destruction to everyone. I can't watch you fall Harry, I don't think I could stand it. I would like to be naive and think that you could be redeemed but you're too far gone. Only one thing is certain about your future; you'll die a lonely death and I'll be left to mourn you as I mourn you now. Goodbye Harry."

With one last painful, heartbreaking glance he left the room, shoulders hunched and head bowed as if he carried the weight of the world on his thin shoulders. In the classroom, Harry fell from his chair to the floor, his sobs escalating into shuddering, pain-drenched gasps that came from deep inside his core, creating a gaping wound that would never be fully healed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*

It was good half hour or so later before Harry rose from his position on the floor. He had cried himself out, his eyes now stubbornly red and dry despite his inner turmoil. His eyes, if he had deigned to look or to care, were puffy and red but if he was careful, no one would notice it as anything but part of his costume. After all it wasn't as if there was anybody left to care.

~*~*~*~*~~**~~**~*~*~*~*~*~

When Harry returned to his room, he found Hedwig waiting for him with a package. After scanning it for any malevolent spells, he took it off Hedwig and gave her an owl treat before she returned to the owlery. Ripping open the brown paper covering, several books and two letters fell into his lap. It seemed his friends had come true for him. 

Picking up the first letter, he saw it was from Willow Rosenberg.

_Hey Harry,_

_I cannot believe that they did that to you! Me and Tara are already working on a way to remove it so we'll let you know if we find anything. In the meantime use my little gifts to give them hell! _

_Willow and Tara._

_P.S – By the way, Buffy's offering to help you kick their asses if you feel like it!_

Harry grinned slightly; still feeling depressed about Sirius and eagerly picked up the heavy books. They were all about very obscure, very nasty and highly untraceable curses and hexes. Oh, the fun he could have with these... Putting them away, he picked up Wesley's letter, which had a much more sombre tone when compared to Willow's lighthearted one. 

_Harry,_

_I hope you are alright, or as alright as you can be while under the influence of the Branding. I cannot say what horrifies me more; the fact that the Order would stoop so low or that one of them – and a Death Eater no less! – has found out about your calling. This could be disastrous, especially with the situation you are now in._

_As you requested, I have researched the Branding and I have no good news to impart. The Branding is exceptionally dangerous, a form of magic that should never have been invented. It has a rather.... shady history to say the least. All of the recorded cases say that the victim has died or gone mad after twelve months or so. _

_You must get out from under its grasp as soon as humanly – or slayerly – possible. You said that the binding stone used was the Orb of Thessulah, so I believe that if you find that, you should be able to break it somehow and thereby reverse the spell. I don't know of any side-affects that may result from it but I can't think they could be any worse than those you will be subjected to under the Branding. _

_I hope I do not have to remind you of the Council's policies on Slayers lost to madness or who are unable to carry out their duty... You have the makings of a fine slayer and a powerful wizard; it would be a great loss if you were to die before your time..._

_Contact me if you are successful, and for heaven's sake be careful!_

_Wesley._

Harry sighed as he put down the letter. It seemed all he got was bad news lately. Story of his life, he supposed. At least Wes had come up with one way to get rid of the dratted curse but how in Merlin's name was he going to acquire the orb from under Dumbledore's nose while under the restrictions of the Branding?! 

It looked like he'd have to call on Fawkes for help. Again. The poor phoenix was really working overtime lately. 

~*~*~*~*~~**~~**~*~*~*~*~*~

In his office, Albus Dumbledore studied the orb cradled in his hands. The swirling green-black energy pulsed gently, seeming to draw all who looked upon it into its web. Such power this orb now contained! 

Power that now belonged to him. 

Power that would allow him to topple Voldemort and kill him once and for all. 

Clasping his hands on either side of the orb, he said the activation spell and watched as the absinthe and ebony tendrils snaked up his arms....

_~*~*~*~*~~**~~**~*~*~*~*~*~_

At the same time, Harry Potter doubled over in pain in his room. It felt like he was being ripped in two... And so he reacted the way all slayers do when faced with pain, - he fought back. He didn't know what he was doing precisely, all his attention was focused on keeping himself together and putting a halt to whatever was happening.

After what seemed like an eternity, the stabbing pain receded and so did the feeling that he was being sliced and diced by invisible knives. Resting his head on the soft duvet, he felt like he'd been run over by an eighteen-wheeler truck, been knocked over the head by a sledgehammer and had swallowed barb wire. And that was not even counting the sense of weakness and lethargy that seemed to come from every pore. He was so so tired.... 

He called faintly for Fawkes, but was too tired to wait for the arrival of the vibrantly coloured songbird. His eyelids slipped shut and his last thought was who was it that had just tried to kill him?....

~*~*~*~*~~**~~**~*~*~*~*~*~

In his office, Dumbledore gritted his teeth in frustration. The spell hadn't worked and the power still resided within the boy instead of inside of him. Still, the boy had been weakened a great deal by the shock and trauma of the failed spell. 

He'd have to do further research. Today had been close; it would take only a couple more days, definitely no more than a week before he had what he wanted. Before he had everything he had ever wanted; his own power increased, Voldemort dead or cowering before him and Mr Potter as harmless as a Muggle if he survived. Despite today's setback, life was good. 

~*~*~*~*~~**~~**~*~*~*~*~*~

When Harry woke up, he let out a moan of pain and fished around for the vial of healing potion that he always kept handy. He had three guesses as to who had been the cause of his sudden bout of torture but he only needed one; Albus Dumbledore. Something had to be done about that man and soon. 

Fawkes stirred beside him, trilling a few notes that made the tension seep out of his already abused body. He felt so weak even now… He didn't know what the man had done but he planned on finding out – and then doling out the necessary revenge. Looking at his version of the Weasley's grandfather clock, he saw that he'd been out for nearly two hours. Whatever it was must have hit him harder than he thought. Then again incredible, blinding pain tended to do that to a person. He looked at his clock again with a perverse sense of amusement, after all the hands on his charmed clock read Dead, - who could be bothered with Mortal Peril when he was in that everyday? – Undead, Incarcerated, Travelling, Class, Slaying and Home. 

It was time for lunch, which was being served to everybody in their respective common rooms as the Great Hall was being decorated for the ball that night. Which meant Harry would have to face a horde of angry Gryffindors instead of sneaking off to the kitchens as he normally did. 

Descending from his room with the intention of grabbing some food and a goblet of juice but as per usual, fate decided to have her fun at his expense. He'd just filled his plate and was trying to decide which path would let him avoid Ronald Weasley when a most unexpected agony tore through him. 

Harry clutched his head and sank to his knees as the searing pain of a vision hit him, the contents of his plate spilling out beside him. A few shocked cries echoed through the Gryffindor common room. Most students sneered at the sight but some actually looked somewhat fearful, perhaps fearing that the rabid Harry Potter, Dark Lord-in-training was finally snapping. 

Hermione left to fetch a teacher, unwilling to go near him on her own, Merlin forbid she became the victim of his insanity, leaving Ron to watch over him. With the intent of making sure he didn't kill anybody, to put it bluntly. 

_// Red light… Dumbledore raising his wand… himself strapped to a table with the red light flaring around him… the orb of Thessulah filled with ebony and emerald magic… Dumbledore holding the Orb as light blossomed around it… Putting it in a concealed compartment in his office… the walking dead… Dumbledore on a battlefield, engaged in a duel… curses flying… a flash of Avada Kedavra green…  a black robed man crumpling to the ground… a withered and decrepit scroll… a towering serpent… the symbol of a trinity… a bolt of lightning…  Voldemort in the middle of a pentagram drawn in crimson blood… a horrifying inhuman wail…. A hand pushing up through the dirt of a grave… and then Darkness like a blanket swallowing everything he could see… //_

After a few minutes that felt like a virtual eternity, Harry snapped out of it. Face ashen pale and pupils dilated, he staggered up from his very undignified position on the floor.  Swaying slightly, he tried to make it back to his room but the wand of the high and mighty Mr Weasley, newly appointed Gryffindor Prefect and new Gryffindor Golden Boy, was pointed directly at him. 

Apparently enjoying this chance for revenge for the incident in the Great Hall, Ron decided to taunt him about his 'episode', "Oi! Potter!, planning on fainting again anytime soon?! Or are you just looking for more attention?!" he called from his position across the room. Unwilling to deal with his crap right now and growing rather nauseous as his head spun from the combined affects of the pain and the vision, a physical detriment that was impairing his rational thinking, Harry had his wand out and a spell cast before the redhead could blink and when the other students turned to look at the unfortunate Gryffindor, they found a yellow rat in his place.

Harry was still reeling from his… _vision_? Hallucination? Premonition? Who knew? Nothing like that had ever happened before and he'd seen some pretty freaky stuff in his time. Deciding that it would be anything but good if he were to wait until Hermione came back with a professor, he quickly ran to his room and warded the door, resting his back against it and sliding down to the floor, wondering why these things always had to happen to _him_. 

~*~*~*~*~~**~~**~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry surveyed the Great Hall in satisfaction. He really felt like clapping himself on the back for a job well done. He hadn't lied about his experience with spooky places; he'd probably seen more graveyards and crypts than the entire school put together. 

There were lots of small tables – capable of seating ten or so – scattered around the room which now held the appearance of a dark and overgrown graveyard. He'd based it on the graveyard at Little Hangleton after the Third Task. This way he'd not only match the scenery but also get one up on Dumbledore. 

The stage was off to the far end, where the head table normally was and that had already been taken care of by the Slytherins. Lots of green and black glitter and decorations naturally. 

Harry had spelled the walls to not be seen and had charmed several views of the countryside instead, views of his choosing of course. Created by his memory, it was extraordinarily realistic. The black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to the right of the stage. To the left a hill rose, upon which the outline of a fine old house on the hillside could just be made out. The stone floor had been replaced by withered grass, with weeds plentifully dispersed throughout, creeping vines beginning to smother the tables that were scattered between the rows of crooked, battered, weather-beaten tombstones. 

The tables themselves were enchanted, made of rough stone and braced by specially created stone pillars, engraved with skulls and archaic runes. The tabletops were all decorated with pentagrams painted onto the coarse surface. All the seats were in the form of tombstones, with people's names magically engraved onto the backs as soon as they sat down on them. Dead red roses twined around the chair legs, rising to curl on the edge of the tables. 

Murky grey fog swirled a few centimetres above the floor, being continuously generated by a cauldron near the doors. Fog would initially pool around people's feet but as the night wore on the fog would grow denser and spread wider until eventually it would be hard to make out anything. The traditional dusty cobwebs spanned the ceiling, worthy of acromantalas in their sheer size. In some parts of the room, they fell right onto the tables and provided a backdrop for the stage. 

At the south of the room, to either side of the doors was Harry's version of the finger to Dumbledore. A towering marble headstone stood proudly on one side of the room, it's chipped and weathered surface bearing the name Tom Marvolo Riddle in the same burning letters the real boy had shown him in the Chamber of Secrets in his second year. Oh to be accurate it should have been the father's name on the stone but most wouldn't know the difference anyway. 

A steaming cauldron – the one producing the fog – stood beside the opposite door. The potion inside bubbled merrily, the deep blood red colour creating an eerie contrast to the blackened man-sized pot. 

The lighting was dim, very dim, made to match the moon's wan silvery radiance. It gave the room an otherworldly ghostly glow. All in all, the whole scene had an eerily chilling feel. A perfect setting for the (most likely) bloodcurdling effect of his costume. And speaking of his costume, he'd better go and get ready. Even if he planned on showing up late, he needed plenty of time to ensure that it was just right and that everything was ready. He hurriedly slipped out the door, looking forward to tonight's chaos. 

From the dark recesses of the furthest corner, brown eyes turned a feral yellow and a pair of deadly fangs gleamed in the light....

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~**~*~**~*~

Harry had big plans for this ball. It was going to be his final farewell to Hogwarts and he was going to make sure it went down in legend. There was no way in hell that he was going to Azkaban. In fact he'd sooner go to hell, at least down there, he could beat a few demons into a pulp. A very satisfying pastime in his opinion. 

Thanks to his earlier vision – about which he was still puzzling over and had eventually given up and owled Wesley – he now knew where the Orb was. Slayer strength plus orb equals one very, very smashed up crystal ball. 

Fawkes was now on a little espionage mission to get it for him. So if everything went according to plan, the all-knowing Albus Dumbledore – along with everybody else - would be receiving one hell of a surprise come the evening. One very big, very nasty surprise that should end up with the headmaster being reduced to little pieces of kibble. 

He planned on going out with a bang and he didn't see anything getting in the way of that.

He slipped on a pair of flowing black robes – the same kind Voldemort was known to wear – and picking up his wand, he changed his eye colour from a bright emerald green to an unnatural scarlet red. The pupils were slitted like a cat's and shone eerily in comparison to his pale skin, raven hair and black outfit. He pulled on the white mask of a Death Eater, looked in the mirror and declared himself ready. 

In the dim lighting and spooky atmosphere, he would have little trouble convincing the student body that he was the real Lord Voldemort. After all, he'd spent more time trying to kill Harry than anybody else on his hit list. The costumes wouldn't be judged until eleven but he didn't plan on making an appearance until near that time. It wouldn't do to tip his hand too soon, he had to wait for the Orb. And then…

And then all hell would break loose…

~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~

_"Are you scared to look inside your mind?   
Are you worried just at what you'll find?  
Do you really want to face the truth?   
Does it matter now, what have you got to lose?" _

_- Steve Harris & Jannick Gers (Iron Maiden), "The Unbeliever"_

To say Albus Dumbledore was displeased was a gross understatement. Apoplectic or spitting mad would have been a more apt description. 

He was about one step away from foregoing his plans and killing the brat that was Harry Potter for this insult. The symbolism of the décor wasn't lost on the headmaster. The nerve of the boy! To blatantly advertise his connection with Tom Riddle like this was enough to incite a seething rage inside the headmaster, even if the majority of the students had no clue that the décor was actually a real setting and not just made up for the sake of the ball. 

Fortunately, the ball had started hours ago and the Halloween feast had come off without a hitch, despite the tombstone seats and the fog that climbed ever higher as the night wore on. But one Harry Potter _still_ hadn't turned up.

Albus wasn't sure if it was due to a fear of retribution on his part or because he had something else planned. 

Still, what true damage could the boy do under the Branding? He couldn't harm anything. Punishment could be meted out in the morning, before the aurors came to take him to Azkaban, allowing Albus to enjoy the ball and the splendid costumes. 

From his place skulking in a shadowed corner of the room, half submerged in the ever rising fog, Severus Snape surveyed the Great Hall and the antics going on within with a perverse sense of amusement. Some of the costumes were just _too_ entertaining. For example, Miss Hermione 'I'm-a-know-it-all' Granger had dressed herself up as Olivia Newton-John from the muggle musical Grease and had managed to cajole and coerce her boyfriend Ronald 'All-brawn-and-no-brains' Weasley into coming as John Travolta. Of course now he was desperately trying to hide and spare himself the giggles and guffaws that followed in their wake. Severus smirked a tad gleefully, Draco Malfoy – coming as a vampire – had firmly shot down any hope of escape for Weasley, cornering him to taunt him ceaselessly about his costume. Severus gave it ten minutes at most before it turned ugly, and only that much because Granger and Seamus Finnigan were restraining Weasley. 

He himself thought Harry's decorations were a stroke of genius, he hadn't actually been to the graveyard at Little Hangleton himself, an action for which his _Lord_ punished him profusely, but he'd heard enough from Lucius Malfoy to recognise it. Not that the gravestone with 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' engraved on it hadn't been a giveaway. When Dumbledore had first caught sight of it, he'd nearly blown up. And that expression of rage had been downright comical. After all, it was really hard to scare people when you came dressed up as Santa Claus as Albus had done. 

Albus's dreadful sense of style seemed to have worn off on some other people, much to the horror of everyone's eyes. Filius Flitwick had dressed himself up as a House Elf for some unknown reason, but let it be said that _no one_ had ever felt inclined to see the Charms professor wearing nothing but a pillowcase. He was sure some of the Ravenclaws would be having nightmares about his lack of house dignity as they called it. They felt he should have come as someone important and intelligent like Nicholas Flamel. Severus privately agreed with them, if only because Flitwick was an eyesore and an embarrassment to the teaching profession looking like that. 

And speaking of embarrassments, Sybil Trelawney had shown up as Cassandra. He was sure that a full roman toga was _not_ meant to be worn with an assortment of scarves and bangles. Nor had the real Cassandra carried around a crystal ball as an accessory. At least Minerva McGonagall had erred on the side of caution and turned down Albus's suggestion of her coming as Mrs Claus and had come as Agrippa instead. 

As for himself, he had come as one of the Black Riders from JRR Tolkien's 'The Lord of the Rings'. The black hooded robes flared out behind him dramatically _and_ the hood hid his face, making it so much easier to intimidate everybody. As expected no one had approached him, probably wary of the sword that came with the costume. Harry hadn't shown up yet and Severus's nerves were beginning to get the slightest bit strained. Every Halloween, without fail, something bad had happened and he didn't expect this year to be any different. Trolls, petrifications, attacks, etc. No, the only question Severus had about the run of rather abysmal luck since Harry Potter came to Hogwarts was, what would it be _this_ time?

In his chambers Ethan Rayne carefully placed a statue of the two faced Roman God, Janus in the middle of a table. Time to cause a little chaos in his opinion and since this little trick of his had worked so _well_ in Sunnydale a few years previous; he figured he'd see how the residents of Hogwarts handled it. This time round, the suspicion wouldn't immediately fall on him. There was a whole _school_ of magic wielders to be suspects and he was a trustworthy professor… But the best thing was that there was no Giles to try and beat him up this time. For once, his chaos magic wouldn't backfire on him. He was fairly sure that Angelus would know who it was but by then he'd probably be busy draining the local slayer and wouldn't give a damn. Ethan smiled, life was good.

He had barely walked in the door when the screaming started. He could only imagine what they were thinking, a tall figure clad in black, eyes a livid scarlet in the dim lighting, silhouetted against the doorframe. Trelawney lifted a shaking, bangle-garlanded hand to point at the figure, as she became a sickly shade of white, "_I knew it_!" she screeched, "The Dark Lord! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is _here_! We are doomed!" She didn't stay awake long enough to see the panic and chaos her words caused as she fainted dead away. 

Under his mask, Harry smirked, advancing forward. Students were staring between the heap that was Trelawney and him, and utter pandemonium had taken hold of the ball. The band had stopped playing and was now trying to sneak out the back door. The teachers were trying to restore order, most trying not to follow Trelawney's example. The students were screaming and running all over the place. Some of the Hufflepuffs were sobbing with terror while the Slytherins seemed to be debating over whether they were safe from him or not before erring on the side of caution and trying to casually slink away from the other houses – especially the Gryffindors who they figured were prime targets on account of Potter. The Ravenclaws looked astounded, this was not like anything they were used too. Ravenclaws were _sensible_! They did _not_ get involved with Dark Lords! That was left to the Gryffindors and Slytherins! On the other hand said Gryffindors, the House of the Brave was in a shambles, scrambling around for Potter. Because obviously if they gave Potter to You-Know-Who, the Dark Lord would go away!

Harry had to admit that they were all pathetic. If he had been the _real_ Lord Voldemort, most of them would be dead or cursed by now. Didn't they have any defensive plans or common sense? He noticed a few people who were just staring at him unflinching, not reacting at all to the supposed threat. Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape and a few of the older Slytherins. All of those who had the Dark Mark anyway. They knew he wasn't their Lord and from there it was only a logical guess away as to who would not only have the ability but the guts to pretend to be Lord Voldemort. 

Dumbledore, looking ridiculous in his Santa suit, shoved his way through the crowd. "SILENCE!!" he roared, brandishing his wand. It didn't do him much good, most of the students, along with a few of the teachers, were trying to get out of the room so his shouting didn't have much affect on a crazed horde of people. 

Harry idly tapped his wand against his arm as he waited for someone to do _something_. Fawkes had got the Orb of Thessulah from Dumbledore's office but Harry hadn't broken the Branding yet. He wanted to see Dumbledore's face as the orb was smashed into a million pieces. Plus once he got his magic back, he had several things he'd like to do to Dumbledore. Hadn't he promised him a little sleep with the fishes?

From his position in the corner, Severus watched events unfold with a raised eyebrow. He'd expected something to happen but not on _this_ scale. And Sybil certainly hadn't helped matters. Idiot woman. Did she think causing widespread panic was a _good_ thing?! 

Though he had to admit it, Harry looked positively evil, the very picture of wickedness, especially with those eyes. Trust him to come up with a scheme like this. So very sneaky and Machiavellian. So very Slytherin. 

Dumbledore finally came up to him, "Mr Potter I presume?" he asked, his knuckles white from clutching his wand so hard. 

Harry had spelled his voice to imitate Voldemort's cold drawl and he wasn't going to let it sit idle. "Obviously Albus," he sneered, sending a shiver through all who heard it. Harry had considerable experience with the Dark Lord and the tone of cold contempt and power was a dead ringer for the real Voldemort. 

Albus glared at him. "And what are _you_ supposed to be?" he asked, anger lacing his voice. 

Harry looked down at his costume, pulling off the mask and slipping it into his pocket, "The Dark Lord, of course. To be honest I would have thought you'd recognise me before anyone else."

"Mr Potter, you are in deep tr…" The headmaster was interrupted by yet another commotion from the direction of the door. Both swivelled their heads around to have a look at the gatecrasher. Apparently Fudge and his troop of aurors had arrived a bit earlier than expected.  

"Ah, Dumbledore! Simply splendid! Just the wizard I wanted to see!" Fudge exclaimed, hurrying over, "We're here for Potter."

Dumbledore gave him an unreadable look, and pointed at Harry. "He's right there, causing more mayhem as usual."

The aurors closed in on Harry and Fudge looked extremely self-satisfied. His career was saved! What a coup the capture and incarceration of You-Know-Who's right hand man was! The Wizarding community would worship him! He looked at the boy in front of him as the aurors moved in, "I will have great pleasure ordering a personal squad of Dementors for you Potter. Your relatives told me quite a bit about your malicious nature and the trouble you caused them."

Harry faked a yawn, "Really? Is that all? Has no one a creative streak anymore?" Other than that remark he didn't seem terribly upset or put-out by the news. 

"Didn't you hear me Potter? You're a dead man."

Harry gave a quick glance to the aurors flanking Fudge, thoughts whirling through his brain, "Of course Minister. Though condolences do not help much in this sorrowful time, they lighten my heart somewhat. It was very sweet of you to offer them in person; I know you are a busy man. Though I am surprised, I hadn't known that you and my _muggle_ relatives had been so well acquainted. But I understand completely that you are a bunch of imbeciles and I forgive you for that," he did a slight doubletake at the look of outrage on all their faces. "Was I mistaken in my view of the situation?" he asked innocently, an expression of confusion on his face. 

The veins in Fudge's neck pulsed in anger and he had turned a nasty purple shade. The lead auror stepped forward before the Minister lost what was left of his composure, "Mr Potter, you were suspected and now confirmed as being an avid supporter of You-Know-Who since before his second rising and afterwards as well. You are under arrest, having been charged and convicted of treason and unspeakable crimes against the Wizarding World."

Thinking quickly, Harry allowed his eyes to become watery and a single tear clung to his lashes before sliding down his cheek, "I have never supported the Dark Lord, I worked against him. He killed my parents and tried to kill me when I was only a baby. That's why he keeps trying to kill me, and frankly, to accuse me of something so horrible so soon after all he'd put me through is pure callousness. Can I not be allowed some respite from him?" he choked out, ending with a sob that was quickly muffled by his hand. Some of the aurors were starting to look uncomfortable and were looking at him and shuffling their feet awkwardly.

Fudge shook his fist at her, "Now listen here, you little Death Eater…." he began to yell but was interrupted by a gasping sob from the boy before him. 

Tears began flowing in earnest and he took a few steps back, trying to quell his sobs, "How can you do this? How can you be so cruel? I have never been and never will be a Death Eater," he sobbed out. 

Dumbledore wasn't fooled the slightest, "Faking a crying fit is not going to help you Mr Potter." 

Harry glared at him for ratting him out, but gave up the act. Instantly the tears stopped and a wave of his wand returned his blotchy face back to normal. "Fine, fine!" he said throwing his hands up, "I'm a convict. Big whoop." He looked at Dumbledore and smiled sweetly, "But I'm not going anywhere." He pulled the Orb of Thessulah out of his pocket. "I've got a new toy I'd like to show you," he said cheerily.

Dumbledore paled, "Impossible!" he cried, "That's a fake."

Harry shook his head, "You need better security Albus." Raising the orb over his head, he threw it to the ground before anybody could react. Crushing it against the stone floor and breaking it into crystalline shards. 

Immediately, Harry's trapped magic coalesced and slammed back into its owner, nearly lifting Harry off his feet with the force. He spared a glance at Dumbledore, the old man looked worried, as he should be. "The puppy's off his leash Minister. Do you really want to stand against me now?"

Dumbledore decided to take charge, "You're still not strong enough to take all of us Potter. Be a good boy and give in quietly."

"So you can kill me? Hmmm, let me think… NO! Merlin! Where do you get off controlling me Dumbledore? I serve _no one_!"

"It is your part to be a pawn in the scheme of things."

Across the room, Severus braced himself for the worst. He knew how powerful Harry was and picked up on the subtle warnings that the slayer was giving his opponents. Dumbledore on the other hand, deliberately ignored the warnings and continued baiting Harry. A dim glow was starting to surround the slayer now and it was getting brighter as his anger increased. Harry was nearly at his breaking point, Severus could feel it. 

Kneeling down in front of the low table in his rooms, Ethan lit the circle of candles and took up the chant, "The word that denies thee, thou inhabit. The peace that ignores thee, thou corrupt. Chaos, I remain, as ever, your faithful, degenerate son. Janus, hear my plea. Take this as your own. Come forth and show us your truth. The mask is made flesh. The heart is curdled by your holy presence. Janus, this night is yours." From the statue, a surge of power rushed out, penetrating everyone in the castle who wore something that was not their true face… 

Severus stiffened as some unknown power ran through him, turning the blood in his veins to ice. He felt insubstantial, wraith-like as it stopped his heart and left him in the land of the dead…

In the middle of the dance floor, Hermione and Ron forgot all about the chaos and looming disaster as they performed the 'You're the one that I want' number from Grease. 

Flitwick got even shorter and began running around cleaning up after everybody and Draco Malfoy suddenly got a craving for fresh blood.

Dumbledore felt a sudden compulsion for giving out toys but first he had to deal with the boy on the top of his Naughty List. No presents for Potter this year.

Harry's body jerked as a power akin to fire coursed through his veins and he felt truly alive for once. A surge of confidence passed through him. Why should he put up with the muggle lover? Why should he care about control? It was _his_ power! His to use as he saw fit. He didn't have to put up with anybody who was below him like this lot!

Harry quaked with unimaginable rage. Blood pounded loudly in his head, tinting his vision a vibrant red colour. "A pawn?!" he gasped out before he found his voice. "A PAWN! I AM NOT SOMETHING TO ORDER ABOUT AND I WILL NOT BE CONTROLLED BY YOU OR ANYONE! EVERYONE ELSE  MAY WANT TO BE YOUR LAPDOG BUT I MOST CERTAINLY DO NOT! I WILL NOT PANDER TO YOUR WHIMS! YOU CAN ALL GO TO HELL FOR ALL I CARE, I REFUSE TO HELP YOU ANYMORE! YOU'RE ONLY A MANIPULATING, DECEITFUL OLD FOOL WHO GETS OTHERS TO DO HIS DIRTY WORK FOR HIM! I HATE YOU!" he screamed at him.

"It is your part to play." Dumbledore said, "It was prophesised."

Harry skewered the man with one of his increasingly potent glares, "Do you really believe that you old fool? You tried to kill me but failed. You laid your cards on the table and you lost. Your true machinations have been exposed. I will never help you again! In fact I'm currently restraining the urge to tie you up with a bow and deliver you to Voldemort!" 

His voice shook as he tried to reign in the vicious slayer temper, "You do realise that I can rip this school apart. Blast it into hunks of rubble or simply vaporise it! And yet you still toy with me! I am not a pawn Albus Dumbledore! And with every second, my reasons for not killing you are becoming less and less apparent."

"You can't kill me. Not here. You're nothing without that scar. You can do nothing. Not even your precious master can save you now."

"WHAT?!!!!" 

Harry's bellow of outrage was heard throughout the entire castle. Even the enchanted residents of Hogwarts recognised danger when they saw it, students and teachers alike started diving under tables as the castle shook and rattled.

In the Great Hall, every glass or crystal object had shattered and a frigid wind swept across the room, sending things crashing to the floor. Harry's brilliant scarlet nee emerald eyes had turned an eerie glowing absinthe colour and he trembled with the effort of controlling the volcanic temper waiting to be unleashed.  Jagged cracks formed in the wood and stone of the furniture and doors and the headmaster and the aurors quickly jumped back as they burst apart into splinters. 

Fawkes appeared from nowhere and gingerly flew over and perched on his shoulder, trilling a few notes to calm him down but it didn't affect him in the slightest. Cracks started to appear in the walls as they moved apart and then melted into a flaming puddle of lava. 

Harry pinned the headmaster with a piercing and deadly glare that would have terrified the Dark Lord himself, "You actually expect me to go begging to Voldemort and to become his right hand knowing full well that he will brand me with the Dark Mark which I don't want and despite the fact that he tried to kill my parents, tried to kill me and tried to kill my friends – when I had them! And let's not what he feels _I_ did to _him_ shall we?! So you want me to be thrown into Azkaban or what's left of it! Of course that's only if they feel generous, they might just shoot the killing curse on sight now! You think you can brand me a dark wizard with no proof and kick me out of the Wizarding World for the rest of my life, what would be left of it after the Dementors finished with me?! Have you finally gone insane?! I AM NOT A DEATH EATER YOU MORON!" 

"So refuse to come peacefully?" the head auror asked warily. 

He threw his hands up in exasperation and a stone table flew out the window, smashing the glass and landing thirty feet away from Hagrid's hut. "The answer is no, not a chance, not in this lifetime, no way, in your dreams and absolutely not under no circumstances!" 

He stalked across the room with his black robes billowing behind him, heading towards the teachers' exit near the stage. None of the aurors were brave enough – or suicidal enough – to go after him.  As he strode through the hall, every single torch went out and every pane of glass shattered into a million fragments. He was in such a temper that he didn't notice his glowing eyes or the deadly balls of ebony and violet flame that erupted around his clenched fists. People dived out of his way, even the teachers. Dumbledore tried to stop but Harry flung out his hand and an ebony tendril shot from it, hitting the headmaster in the chest and sending him flying backwards. 

Severus Snape began moving when he recognised the sudden earthquake as one of the results of his Harry's temper. He caught up with him near the back entrance to the Great Hall and blanched when he saw the undisguised and barely restrained fury etched across Harry's features. Taking his life in his hands, he asked, "What's wrong?" lengthening his stride to overtake the slayer's rapid pace and placing himself in front of the younger man. 

Harry scowled darkly, "Ask Dumbledore or one of the other Order members. They all know what the old coot did." Snape's eyebrow arched at the venom in his tone and he changed tactics. 

"Where are you going? I don't think the general public will be safe with you in such horrendous form." 

If anything his scowl deepened and he threw open the doors with a loud bang before answering in a soft, dangerous voice, "I am going elsewhere. If I can't cool off I'll go destroy some public property and when my temper is in check, I'm transferring to Durmstrang. Now _move_!" 

"What?!" Snape shouted, grabbing his shoulder and forcing Harry to face him, instead of slipping past him. "You can't!" He lowered his voice to a whisper, "The Slayer is needed in Britain!" he hissed.

Harry's glare was nearly hot enough to burn holes in the floor, "I know what I am doing Snape. I don't know how the hell you find out but if you're wise you'll forget everything you ever learned about the Chosen Ones. I _can't_ stay here without going to Azkaban and I am _never_ going to let myself go willingly at those imbecile's orders."

Severus Snape found his own temper beginning to boil as Harry stiffened suddenly, his slayer senses flaring to life. "What are you?" he hissed, "You're dead."

"Merlin Potter," Severus growled, "Didn't you feel the spell earlier? The one that hit everybody?"

Harry looked surprised, then contemplative and then the anger was back. "Ethan Rayne," he snarled, "I'm going to _kill_ him!" Extending his senses, he swept the room for the wizard but couldn't find him. What he did find was ten times worse… there was a master vampire in the room…

Dumbledore tried to hex him from behind, obviously recovered from his flight across the room. The head auror tried to catch him unawares but Harry raised his wand and muttered a few indecipherable words. His opponent collapsed from exhaustion and he easily took his wand, now in a hyperactive state. It was a new spell of his invention, a modified version of the spell used by a healer to feed energy to a patient. His spell allowed the caster to absorb the victim's energy, only halting when the victim either went to sleep or collapsed in exhaustion. It wasn't life threatening though it did tend to make the caster hyperactive.

Enough was enough. Screw the slayers don't kill rule. Albus Dumbledore was going down. 

Rounding on the old wizard, Harry's eyes were wild but his grip on his wand was firm. "You wanted to contain me, cage me! Like an animal! Did you think I would let this go?! You tried to destroy me!" he yelled, as he lost his tentative control over his temper. Damn Ethan's spell. Why oh why did he have to dress up as a Dark Lord of all things?! Dumbledore backed up slightly, wary of the young wizard.

He pointed his wand at Dumbledore, "Turnabout's fair play, isn't it old man? An eye for an eye and all that jazz."

Dumbledore gave a signal to someone behind Harry and a stunning spell was released by another auror. 

The stunning spell hit him but its effects didn't reach him thanks to a wandless shielding charm but he still fell to the ground, playing possum. He heard footsteps approaching him and a pair of hands reaching for him. Quicker than the human eye could follow, his hand shout out and grabbed one of their legs, giving a sharp tug and sending them crashing to the ground. Flipping to his feet, he took off running before anyone could react.

Harry skidded across the Great Hall, coming to an abrupt stop as he registered that one, everybody was looking at him like he was crazy and two, there was no vampire in sight but his senses were going haywire. He should have been able to see him. It was very puzzling as his slayer senses were screaming 'Vampire Alert!'. 

"You may as well come out Vampire. I know you're there," he called, fingering his wand. 

 "Don't be ridiculous Potter. If this is your idea of a practical joke...." McGonagall threatened, seemingly oblivious to the stares of disbelief from the aurors who were trying to get past his shielding spell.  

Harry looked around and saw that most people echoed the Transfiguration Professor's sentiments. But that still didn't help his problem any. His senses told him to look up fast and he instantly obeyed. There looking down at him from the ceiling was the vamp, who lunged at him, knocking them both to the ground.

Harry tumbled through the doors of the Great Hall, still grappling with the demon. He detangled himself and jumped to his feet, "Clear the way people!" he yelled at some nearby students who took this as an opportunity to run screaming out of the side door near the Head table.

A quick staking took care of that problem but that vamp had only been a minion. Where was the master?

The vampire in question strolled into the Great Hall, causing all conversation to cease abruptly. Dumbledore stopped trying to dismantle Harry's shield to focus on the newcomer but the vampire paid him no attention. His attention was focused on Harry, who turned to face him slowly, fingering a stake hidden up the sleeve of his robes. "You know what I want," the vampire stated with an Irish accent. 

Harry cursed inwardly, Angelus. Just what he needed. He'd really have to wing it now. "A bubble bath?" Harry asked sardonically, "I'm no mind reader Angelus." 

"You killed my Childe." Angelus hissed. 

Harry nodded, "Yes, but she was absolutely insane. I know it runs in the family and all but come on, who cares?"

"Baiting me won't work." Angelus said amusedly. "Are you so eager for your death?"

"Funny, I would have said the same thing about you. But what can I say? Been there, done that." 

Angelus never got a chance to answer as Voldemort and his merry gang of Death Eaters flooded into the hall. Harry fought the urge to just kill himself there and then. What was this? Gang up on Harry day?

Voldemort stalked over, robes swirling around him. If things hadn't been so dire, Harry would have laughed, they were in practically identical outfits. "Who are you?!" he demanded of Angelus, "I have a claim on that boy! You can't kill him! That's my job!"

 "I'm Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, the one with the angelic face, leader of the Order of Aurelius, yadda, yadda, yadda," the vampire said carelessly, "Care to introduce yourself?" 

"I've heard of you. You're quite infamous for a muggle. I am Voldemort, the Dark Lord."

"I've heard of you too. That slaughter at Avonvale was an inspired piece of work. You might give me a run for my money, even if you are a mortal."

"I'm no mortal. What are you doing here?"

"He killed my Childe, Drusilla. I spent _years_ making her what she was.  It should go without saying that I want revenge."

"As I said, you _can't_ kill him. I have a prior claim. He reduced me to a state less substantial than a ghost when he was one and has hindered by resurrection two times as well as ruining my plans every time I make one!"

"Now listen here, I got here first. He's my kill."

"I've been trying to kill him for sixteen years! You have no right!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!" 

By now most of the observers – and Harry – were starting to get seriously freaked out. Harry couldn't believe they were fighting over who had the most right to kill him! 

"I'm the wizard here!" Voldemort said, "I am stronger than you, you overgrown bat!"

Angelus bared his fangs, "I'm two hundred and fifty years old. You're a child compared to me."

"Enough!" Harry yelled, "Neither of you are going to kill me. Voldemort, You've been trying to kill me since before I can remember. Don't you think it's getting a tad redundant? And Angelus, compared to Voldemort, you're the Easter Bunny." 

Ignoring their outrage, Harry smirked and casually waved his wands at the shards of the Orb of Thessulah, restoring it. He held it up mockingly, "Remember this Angelus?!" 

"You wouldn't dare!" Angelus roared.

"Wouldn't I? Really Angelus, what do you know?" Still clutching the orb, he began to chant while holding a shield against the enraged Master Vampire, 

"Nici mort nici al flinçtei, 

Te invoc, spirit al trecerii,

Reda trupului ce separa omul de animal,

Cu ajutorul acestui magic glob de crystal.

Not dead, nor not of the living. Spirits of the interregnum, I call. Restore to the corporal vessel that which separates us from beast. Use this orb as your gui…" Harry never got to finish as Angelus barrelled into him, knocking the now glowing orb out of his hands and smashing it once more. 

The Death Eaters, Voldemort, Dumbledore _and_ the aurors took this as their cue to attack. Throwing Angelus off him, Harry raised his hands to the ceiling and lightning crackled overhead, visible through the bespelled ceiling. "You have ten seconds to either run or disapparate or else I'll fry you with that." 

The Death Eaters looked nervously at the sky before one seemed to gather his courage and drawled, "You can't kill. You're a Gryffindor." The wizard spoke with a surety that Harry found laughable. 

"Oh really? You try to kill me every time you see me. No mercy. Did you think I would treat you any different?"

The deadly obsidian coils of magic entwined around his arms became visible. "I did warn you." he threw her hand out and one of the coils mimicked his movements, flying forward and gouging a small crater in the floor, where the small group of Death Eaters had formerly stood. 

Voldemort backed off, deciding to wait until Harry had finished taking care of everyone else. By then, he hoped, Harry would be worn down considerably. 

Dumbledore decided to try what had worked before. The whole hall watched in disbelief and horror as the knife flew from the headmaster's hand and imbedded itself just above Harry's heart. Crimson blood gushed from the wound and he reeled backwards, falling to the floor and staring at the wizened wizard with utter fury at this final betrayal. The old coot couldn't even be bothered to duel honourably in case he lost! Dumbledore lifted his wand and said the two words that everybody feared the most, "Avada Kedavra!" 

The eerie green light blasted from his wand towards the stricken Harry. Voldemort thought uh-oh and yelled at his followers to take cover before diving behind a table himself. Harry tried to get out of the way but his sluggish body wouldn't move fast enough and the curse impacted. 

Like when he was a baby, it slammed into him and then miraculously rebounded, his scar reflecting the green light and pulsing with the glow. It was sent back towards Dumbledore and Angelus who were blasted into the wall. 

Harry watched in fascination as his skin knitted back together before his eyes, the mortal wound healed within seconds. Turning to his would be killers – all of them – and his green eyes flashed. Glowing unnaturally and the power within lashed out just as multiple Avada Kedavra's struck him. 

Once the hidden cache of power had expended all its force and its task was finished, the unknown power receded back to where it lay dormant inside of him, just as the effects of the spell started to happen. 

There was an enormous flash of light and the following shockwave knocked everyone onto the ground. The light expanded until it filled the whole room, brightening until it was blinding and unbearable to look at and then there was a loud explosion that rocked the whole castle. 

It was the last thing Harry saw before everything faded into black....

When the light dimmed, there were murmurs of shock and matching bellows of outrage from Dumbledore, Angelus and Voldemort. Harry Potter was missing....

~*~*~*~~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~

**A/N:**

Remember, **_REVIEWS_** make me write **_FASTER_**. They provide **_ENCOURAGEMENT_**. *hint hint* By the way for any of you Buffy and Lord of the Rings fans I've got a crossover fic up called 'A Light to You In Dark Places'. Do check it out if you're interested. 


	7. The Boy Who Lived and Lived and Wouldn't...

                               **HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER**

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**Summary:** Someone casts a nasty spell that catapults Harry to Hogwarts of the past, where his parents are in their sixth year to be exact. Trapped in the past, he must hide the truth of his past, their future and the demanding duties of the slayer. 

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Though I do hold claim to the plot!

**Author's notes**: I apologise for this chapter being so late. I have no excuse except for a case of Writer's Block. Again, I apologise. 

Now, we get into what I think is the hardest part of the stories. Trying to come up with a timeline that sticks as close as possible to JK Rowling's truth but the problem is, I have very few facts to work with. Looking through the books, the only clues and facts are inconsistent but I have dutifully slogged through them. I have spent nearly two weeks researching these facts so if anybody flames me because of inaccuracies, I'll just stick my tongue out at you *not that you could see me anyway* 

According to Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday party, he celebrated 500 years of death in 1992, having died in 1492. That _has_ to be a mistake. As Dudley's Sony Playstation is mentioned, it cannot have been 1992 as the Playstation was first launched in the UK in _1997_. And we _still_ don't know when Dudley got it. So assuming little Dudders got it fairly soon after it became popular, say between 1997-1999, around that time Harry started his first year at Hogwarts. The way I'm working things is that Harry was 16 in 2003, having been born in 1987. So his canon Hogwarts years would go as follows: 

            Sixth year: 2003 - 2004

            Fifth year: 2002 – 2003.

            Fourth: 2001 - 2002

            Third: 2000 - 2001

            Second: 1999 - 2000

            First: 1998 – 1999. 

I repeat; any flames because of this will be chased down by a rabid vampire. 

And here comes another canon maybe (I repeat: - no flames accepted) My theory is that Lily and James married young and had Harry soon after. So the Marauder's generation would be about 35 in 2003, (The year ending Harry's fifth year and starting his sixth year), having been born circa 1968. And so their Hogwarts years would be as follows: - 

            Seventh year: 1985 - 1986

            Sixth year: 1984 - 1985

            Fifth year: 1983 - 1984

            Fourth: 1982 - 1983

            Third: 1981 - 1982

            Second: 1980 - 1981

            First: 1979 - 1980

This is my timeline. Like it or loath it but after spending so many hours on it, I'll be too sick of it to really care. And now on to nicer, more interesting things.

Have I mentioned I love reviews? I thank all of you who reviewed. They really help me get over Writer's Block when I fall victim to it and help speed up the writing process. And by the way, not _one_ of you got the significance of the chessboard right in the last chapter. Think harder. 

_ADJ_ – Thanks for reviewing. Harry didn't let Angelus and Voldemort attack each other because can you imagine them ganging up on _him_? As in working together? He would have been in _deep_ trouble. Snape may be powerful but Dumbledore has got a ton of blackmail options, manipulation techniques and various other tactics to make sure he has Snape where he wants him. After all, Snape, though very strong, cannot take down a legion of aurors, Dementors, Dumbledore and his betrayed 'master' Voldemort. Can anyone say manhunt? Yes, JK Rowling's fifth book is brill! Poor Sirius though! Thanks so much for your pleasing comments on my fic!

_Ancalime2_ – Wow, you're astute! I can_not _believe you live in Rumania. I mean what are the odds! As to where I got the spell for Angelus's curse, it actually comes from the Buffy TV show and is the one used to curse him with a soul whenever he loses it. So I cannot lay claim to any mistakes it might contain. But I just have to say wow! Glad you liked the exchange between Angelus and Voldie! 

_Arizosa_ – I have freely admitted that I am an evil, evil person. But I resent the devil comment. I have a halo, you know, the horns are only there to hold it up…

_atalante_ – How could I stop there? One reason and one reason only – I'm cruel.

_athenakitty_ – Thanks for reviewing! Harry's watcher will come in to this fic and already has in letters and such. And yes, Harry-haters will get what's coming to them… Be afraid. Be very afraid.

_BlackDiva_ – Glad to be back too. Thanks for reviewing!

_unico _– I'm really glad you like both my stories! I do have more in the works! This summer's been really great for ideas! As for your question about Snape… sorry you have to wait and see. 

_Carneol_ – Thank you very much for reviewing! And as to your comments about Harry's luck, I _so_ agree. Yes, that was the moment Snape had been waiting for but as for Remus being the glowing eyes in the dark, wait and see but I will give you this hint. It's not very likely its him. *g*

_CatatonicReaction_ – I get what you're saying about Sev being portrayed as a loner in the fifth book but really; I think the Marauders would be saying geek. Oh when I get to write those scenes… *sighs wistfully* Prepare for war.

_Clingon87_ – Thanks so much for the compliment! I'm so glad you're liking this fic!

_CrimsonNoble_ – Thanks for reviewing. And as for the students' reactions, you bring up a very good point. 

_DarkWolfyOne_ – Thanks so much! Glad you like the fic! And don't worry Harry will get to kick plenty of ass!

_Dramicka_ – I made you speechless?

_Eriee_ – Thanks for reviewing! Now you get to find out where Harry went to!

_FantasyChick_ – Where he ends up is answered in this chapter and as for the other question HP/SS all the way! Though it's gonna be a _long_ haul.

_Fate_ – You honour me!

_Ficfan_ – Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you like the Dumbledore/Harry plotline.

_Fireangle_ – Thanks for your comments on the theme for the ball! I'd been a bit wary about it.

Gryphnwng – On the edge of your seat _again_? You seem to spend a lot of time there. *evil smirk* And I like keeping you there! Aren't cliffhangers grand? And I've read your fic which is _really_ good! Down with Dumbledore I say!

_Holy-Demon_ – Wow! Two reviews! Cool! Glad you liked the story! Though I think the 'millions' estimate is a bit, okay a lot, far fetched. Thanks anyway though! They were really nice reviews!

_IceTastesNice_ – You have made flattery an art form! I thank you!

_iDiT_ – Thank you, thank you. *bows dramatically* Glad you liked the chapter!

_Immortal TigerWolf_ – Well, it's not so much Harry-bashing as Dumbledore-bashing but it's setting things up for future chapters. 

_Jewelclaw Lady of Wind_ – That was a fair load of questions! I hope the speed of this post is better – then again nearly anything is an improvement on last time! The basilisk…hmmm… yes, it is the one from the Chamber of Secrets. The person in the shadows of the chamber… I was wondering when someone was going to ask about that…but I'm not telling. Too important to the plot. Sorry. Adopt a wait and see policy with regards to that. Thanks for your _very_ complimentary review!

_Kalor_ – Thanks for the thought provoking review! Eh, no its not exactly another plane of existence but for poor Harry it might as well be, *laughs uproariously* 

_Keebler-elmo_ – In answer to your question – yes!

_Kylie_ – Such a nice review! No, Harry is most definitely not a weakling. And I don't think he's going to be pleased with a Dumbledore of _any_ timeline. As to everybody's reactions, they will be showcased as the fic progresses. Can't give away too much can I? It would ruin my evil reputation. I have _no_ plans to discontinue this story! None whatsoever! I'm having too much fun! I liked your description of the guy in Harry's dream, 'the freaky dude that comes with the chess set'. But the readers will probably find out who he is when Harry does. You don't have to know much of the vamp's background to enjoy his presence. His duty in this fic is to cause mystery, murder and mayhem. Remus will be coming into this story most definitely and as for Sirius, so not sure yet. Bill and Charlie? Maybe at some point but I don't see how they could come into it as more than minor characters with the time the story is in now but as requested, I have worked them in somehow. You do realise that you're the _only_ one who said I could take my time with the next chapter! It's nice to know one person who won't kill me if I'm late!

_Lady Shang _– Thanks! I'm happy that you think this is original!

_Lady Melime_ – You are indeed correct in your deductions. I'm glad you liked the Angelus vs Voldemort scene. 

_Lady Phoenix Gryffindor_ – I'm so happy that you liked the little Voldemort vs Angelus scene when they were arguing over Harry. And as for Dumbledore dying…I'm _so_ not telling. 

_Lady Rowena_ – Changed your name again, huh? Thank you _so_ much for the lovely review.

_Leah_ – Thanks for reviewing! Glad you liked the catfight between Voldie and Angelus!

_LeopardDance_ – Interesting review! It's nice to know I rock.

_Lukaret_ – Now, if Harry had shredded Dumbledore, all the fun of annoying him would be gone! Glad you like the ball and the comedy scene. And yes I love cliffhangers – but only when I'm the one writing them!

_Luna the Moonmonster_ – I really hope the suspense hasn't killed you already!

_Lynlyn_ – Thanks for the review! Did I ever mention how much I love them? Yes, the chessboard's back. Why do you think Harry's going to choose black? He's not exactly on the best of terms with Voldemort. Yes, Ares is the basilisk. As to who he's talking to – not telling! And who says he hasn't helped Harry? *author has evil, evil thoughts in mind for the future* As to Sirius, - Houston I have a problem there! He's supposed to be dead in canon! *grumbles* Oh well, this is AU anyway. I'll work around it! Why do all you people want Dumbledore dead straight away?! I want to torment him first! I actually used the yellow rat as a reference to Ron's first attempt at a spell. Which backfired. And I didn't want Harry going on a murderous rampage, not that he would have been able to with so many people lining up to kill him! Revenge, who said anything about revenge? Let me assure you that Harry has not even _started_ to plan his revenge yet. And who says that this will be the last they see of the infamous Boy-Who-Lived? 

_Melissa_ – I am well aware it ends on a cliffhanger. As was intended. And yes, I've continued it. hope you like this chapter!

_Mercyangel_ – There will be _some_ Sunnydale characters making their way to Hogwarts. _Some_.

_Mortal enemy of inanimate objects_ – Cool name. Your review was so nice! My head's swelling as I write. Um, a few other dark or kick-ass Harry fics are: The Silver Serpent by Random HP Fan, The Prophecy of the Serpent by Gryphnwng, Dark Blood by Desdemona, Fugitive Prince by March Madness, Let History Repeat Itself by Dauphin, Love and War by the Red Dragons Order, Mirrorverse by Piri Lupin-Snape, The Mirror of Maybe by Midnight Blue, The Other Side of the Mirror by Cyan, The Dark Prince by Saerry Snape, Harry Potter and the Hybrids of Voldemort by Brilliant, Harry Potter and the Veneficus Quies by Atlantis Potter, Not Myself by Saerry Snape, Blood by Artemis Luna Diana, Let the Darkness Take You by SwirlyStars, Warlock of Darkness, Healer of Light by Mystic Shadow, The Paradox of Existence by Dragonlight, Harry Potter and the Mirror of Paradox by Yih, Changing Ideals by Myk. And I _know_ there's quite a few others out there whose names are hovering on the edge of my mind but that I _just_ can't remember!

_Oriana Dumbledore_ – Thanks so much! I love your fics by the way!

_Potter-man_ – Two reviews! I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your encouragement is much appreciated!

_Professor_ – Yes, Ron is a prat, isn't he? I'm glad that you think my characters are believable! It's nice to know I'm doing something right!

_Queen of Vegetasai_ – You brought up some really good questions! Good for you! About Harry detecting the knife, Harry is still technically a rookie slayer, having been recently called. And considering everything that was going on, I think we can forgive him if he doesn't detect _everything_. As for Snape not hissing 'Shire… Baggins…' all the time; in the Buffy episode in which Ethan charmed the costumes for Halloween, those who were dead, for example ghosts, wraiths or anything along that line kept their personalities so I let Sev keep his. I totally agree with on you on the Cho/Harry thing. Scaaary. Thank you so much for such a nice (and long) review! And as per your demands, the author has got to work. 

_Rogue1615_ – Thanks for reviewing! It seems that you and _everybody_ wants to kill half of the characters off!

_sabriel-chan_ – Harry Potter is the more prominent genre in this fic so you really don't have to know that much about Buffy to enjoy it.

_Sadie-IceBlade_ – Thanks for reviewing. And as to Harry going evil, you'll just have to wait and see!

_Sandrine Black_ – Thank you so much! 

_Temporary Insanity_ – I thank you. But Angelus and Voldemort killing each other off would have been no fun! And yes, Dumbledore is over-confident. He thought he had everybody where he wanted them. As to pairings, I'm open to both slash and het. It doesn't really bother me either way.

_The Keeper of Darkness_ – You flatter me! How am I going to be able to fit my head through the door with such lovely compliments?! Thanks for reviewing! Do so again! 

_Twinkle_ – Thanks for reviewing! What will happen in the past? Wait and see! Yes, Harry still looks like Voldie. And yes, it _will_ be HP/SS.

_Usa_ – Dumbledore tries to use _everything_ to his advantage. Thanks for the compliments! 

_Veralidaine Sarrasri_ – Thanks! I'm glad I changed your opinion on crossovers! Hope you like this chapter! J

_Wiccachic2000_ - You flatter me, really! And in response to your question; Dumbledore tends to have more credibility than Harry 'Insane-according-to-the-press' Potter.

_Wolf Lupin_ – *smiles* Cliffhangers aren't evil for the one writing them!

And thanks to everyone else who reviewed: 

_April_

_Baz_

_BlueDream1_

_B0B _

_Catherine_

_Delphine Pryde_

_DraconisSenshi_

Dustin 

_Erin_

_immortalbuffyfan_

_jess_

_Lady Sakura_

_Maggie _

_Namwolf_

_Pyschomek_

Rae 

_rei_c _

_Rick_

_Sil _

_Slim _

_Venus Rose_

**CHAPTER SEVEN: THE BOY WHO LIVED AND LIVED AND WOULDN'T DIE**

_"Have you ever felt   
The future is the past   
But you don't know how...?   
A reflected dream   
Of a captured time   
Is it now, is it really happening?" _

_-- Janick Gers & Steve Harris (Iron Maiden), "Dream of Mirrors" _

Harry's back impacted against hard ground with a painful thud. His head was spinning, his stomach was churning and his slayer senses were going wild. All in all he felt miserable. 

Which was to be expected considering the night he had had…

Memory rushed back to him as the sound of screaming and running feet registered. Opening his eyes, and sitting up with a groan, he was shocked to see the state of utter pandemonium that had affected… _Diagon Alley_? What the hell was he doing in Diagon Alley? The last thing he remembered was the attempted murder of him and then a brilliant flash of light.

Okay, maybe he was dumb by that still didn't explain how he ended up in Diagon Alley. Or the reason why everyone was running around as if they had seen the Dark Lord… He smacked himself in the forehead, how could he be so _dense_? He was still dressed as the Dark Lord! Everybody in the street probably thought he was Voldemort!

That would certainly explain the panicking, for one thing.

And the horde of aurors swarming down the alley towards him. 

Running would probably be a good option, at least until he figured out what was going on. And especially since both Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter were wanted by the Ministry.

Blocking a stunning spell, he started running, dodging down several side streets before morphing into his cat animagus form. As predicted the aurors raced on by. Harry trotted along, heading back to Diagon Alley, hoping to find some answers to his ever-growing repertoire of questions. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

As the Harry-kitty strolled down Diagon Alley, he began to notice differences, things that hadn't been there the last time he'd visited the wizarding street. Shops that he knew had never been there were in business, other shops that he expected to see weren't anywhere along the alley. It was a puzzle, a puzzle that he didn't even have half the pieces to. 

His state of confusion didn't last long. Outside Flourish and Blotts, there was a copy of the Daily Prophet on the ground. A relatively new copy judging by its condition. Looking at it nearly gave Harry a heart attack. 

Because at the very top of the front page was the date. 05 August 1984. 

Over nineteen years in the past to be precise!

If Harry had been the type to faint, he'd be flat on the ground by now. As it was, all his fur was standing on end as if he'd been electrocuted. 

How in Merlin's name could this have happened?! His eyes narrowed to slits, Dumbledore… it had to be something to do with Dumbledore's actions before the Great Flash of Light as Harry had dubbed it. 

He was in such deep trouble, he didn't even know where to _begin_ digging himself out of it! 1984… that was three years before he was even born! Okay, let's just start with the basics Harry, he told himself, trying to calm down. 

He didn't have a lot to go on, so he decided to sum up what he _did_ know. One, he really didn't have a clue how he got here. Two – he didn't know how to get back. Three – he really couldn't afford to screw up the timelines. Four – he was _already_ messing up the timelines just by _being_ there! Five – Harry Potter didn't and couldn't exist here. Six – that ruled out his Gringotts vault. Seven – he was completely and utterly screwed!

He dejectedly plonked himself down on top of the paper, his head resting on his paws. This just wasn't of the good. 

1984… Well, Fudge wasn't Minister of Magic anymore, what had they said in his third year? Oh yes, Fudge was currently a junior minister with the Department of Magical Catastrophes. Who the current Minister of Magic was he didn't have a clue. Barty Crouch Sr was the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he knew that. And of course, the real killer was Voldemort. 

Voldemort who was currently Mr All Powerful Dark Lord. With his army built up, his allies secured and half of the wizarding world either under his thrall or voluntary working for him while the other half was running scared.

Not to mention that his parents would be starting his sixth year around this time. 

Oh, he could foresee a _lot_ of headaches in the future. How in Merlin's name did he get himself into these messes?!

What was he going to do? Most of his friends hadn't been born yet; the others wouldn't know him as he technically didn't exist yet. And his mobile phone wouldn't work as the bloody network didn't exist!

What had he done to deserve this? He must have killed an entire _family_ of Murphy's in a past life. Still there was hope, he knew some people who'd probably believe him. He wasn't feeling very kindly towards Angel at the moment. Besides the guy was still on his 'tortured-vamp-with-a-soul-who-lives-in-an-alley-and-lives-on-rats-whilst-moping' kick. Buffy and the Sunnydale gang were toddlers, he didn't have a clue as to where to find Giles and he _really_ didn't want to have to go to the Watchers' Council unless he _absolutely_ had to. So that left one option…

Lorne. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Lorne one of those rare demons who didn't want to kill people, maim, cheat, swindle etc. In fact he made his living helping people. He had green skin, red horns, wore bright suits and owned a karaoke bar in Los Angeles called Caritas. He could read peoples' destinies while they sang so he earned his money by giving advice to said people. Not to mention the spells he had all over the bar, which prevented fighting on the premises so it was a kind of haven for pretty much anybody,

As well as being one of Harry's best hopes for information. 

Lorne might not know him but he'd be able to read Harry if he sang and he just might have some insight into this whole mess. 

Walking into the bar, he winced as his sensitive ears were assaulted by one demon's attempts at singing. And to say said demon's voice was like nails scraping along a blackboard was a gross understatement. 

Spotting Lorne in the corner near the stage, visibly trying not to prematurely lose his hearing, he quickly crossed over to the very brightly dressed demon. "Hey Lorne," he greeted casually, causing the horned head to snap around.

Lorne looked at him in puzzlement for a second before _very_ obviously cringing, "Geez, kitten, you are in trouble!" he exclaimed. Clearly, whatever Harry's aura was projecting it was _not_ a good thing.

Once the more sensible part of his brain was finished bemoaning what was undoubtedly going to be a litany of bad news and migraine inducing problems, he bristled at Lorne's habit of giving endearments to _everybody_. Did he have a sign saying 'kitten' on his back or something? Still, it was better than Angelus's nickname; Angelcakes… _really_, it made Harry snigger every time he thought about it. 

"I need your help," Harry said. 

Lorne waved at the bartender, who brought him a drink – his favourite 'seabreeze' before addressing Harry. "You know the deal kitten, you've gotta sing before I can be of any help to you."

"I know that!" Harry said before he realised something very important and potentially mortifying. Did he even _know_ any songs from around this time?! "But I don't think I _know_ any songs to sing!" he cried, mentally pleading with Lorne not to expose him to such humiliation that would likely end with Harry staking _something_. 

Lorne only flashed him a bright smile, "Nonsense! Go take a look at the karaoke machine and find something you like. And you might want to make it snappy 'cos you're up next."

Lorne would never have any idea exactly how close he came to having the karaoke machine chucked at him by an irate slayer. 

Perusing the selection, that sinking feeling grew as he looked at page after page of songs he had never heard of let alone wanted to make a fool of himself singing them. Eventually he decided on Bon Jovi's 'Shot Through the Heart*', simply because he had heard it a couple of times before. 

For a guy who battled vampires and demons on a regular basis _and_ had near death experiences with Voldemort every year, it was kind of hard to believe how nervous a person could get while singing. On a stage. In a bar full of demons. In the past. And did he mention the whole bar full of demons who don't like slayers part? 

At least his voice had broken already and he didn't have to endure three minutes of having to sound like a cross between Mickey Mouse and the Chipmunks. And in his modest opinion, he didn't do so badly but he was ever so glad to get _off_ the stage and away from the few predatory demons eyeing him. He had enough problems to deal with without having to worry if he'd change the future if he killed this demon or that vampire. Easiest way out of that quagmire was not to get into a fight at all. Which also sucked, because in his current condition, he could really use something to beat to a bloody pulp. 

Making a beeline towards Lorne, he plonked himself down in the chair opposite and took advantage of the free coca cola. He had looked wistfully at the alcohol but he didn't plan on getting killed just because he wanted to get drunk for a few blissful hours. He had enough things trying to kill him without adding more to the list. 

"Well, can you help me or not?" he asked Lorne, who was studying him as if he were a particularly interesting specimen under a microscope. 

"A slayer?" Lorne questioned in a low voice, "Who made that screw up? Whistler**?!"

"How in Merlin's name do I know?!" Harry hissed, "In case you haven't noticed, I have bigger problems than figuring out which prat decided to turn my life into a game of Murphy's Law!"

"That you do," Lorne agreed, "I've seen trouble in my time but this takes the biscuit kitten! Time travel… I never even thought it was possible…"

"You're supposed to be able to read my destiny? Which path I'm supposed to take? I've heard you were good at it in my time so what am I supposed to do?!"

"I'm still alive?" Lorne asked, then waved a hand to ward off a soon to be attacking slayer, "Uh, sorry. Okay, the situation is something sent you into the past. What I don't know," he added, sensing the vampire slayer's imminent question. "But you're wondering if I know how to get you back?" A nod from the dark-haired boy, "Well, I'm sorry to say I don't. But I can give you some helpful advice. For whatever reason, it seems that you are _meant_ to be here. In this time. You're meant to do something from what I can gather, either directly or from just influencing those around you to do something. From what I can tell, you were a bigwig where you came from and that's more than likely why you were chosen."

Harry gritted his teeth, "Chosen for _what_ exactly?! Isn't being chosen as slayer enough to be chosen for?"

Lorne held up his hands in the universal gesture of peace, "I'm just telling you what I sensed. I don't think it matters too much what you do when you're in this time, as long as you don't destroy anything, or anybody that still exists in the future."

"Well that's just great," Harry drawled sarcastically, "So do you have any idea how long I'm going to be stuck here or is that another thing you don't know?" 

"Hey! There's no need to take this out on me!" Lorne defended, "Put away the claws kitten, you can't hurt anybody – or me – in Caritas."

"How very lucky for you," Harry muttered bad-temperedly. 

"And in answer to your ever so sweetly phrased question, you could be here for a couple of hours or a couple of decades. Excuse me if I've never met a time travelling slayer before!"

"Would you keep it down already?" Harry hissed at the green-skinned demon, "The last thing I need is to be jumped by a horde of demons with really bad voices the second I step out of the club!"

"Hazards of the job," Lorne deadpanned. "I say just be prepared for a nice long stay in this lovely time. Lay back, get a tan, or better yet have some fun and lose the whole 'I-want-to-rip-you-to-pieces' vibe. It doesn't really attract the ladies."

"You're not telling me everything," Harry accused.

"You haven't asked," Lorne replied, taking a sip of his seabreeze. 

I think I like him better when he's not dangling information over my head like a carrot, Harry thought morosely. "Fine! We'll play it that way!" He momentarily trailed off and cringed as a demon with an exceptionally horrible voice that was a cross between screeching cats and wolves' howling started singing the Bee Gees 'Night Fever', complete with the John Travolta-like white suit and strutting dance movements. Not exactly attractive in any circumstances, especially when you've got four arms and skin that resembled mottled sewage. Quite revolting. "What do you know about me?!" he demanded. 

"Let's see, vampire slayer, called Harry Potter, has Voldemort chasing after him and survived the Killing Curse. Multiple times." 

Harry stared at him for a moment, "You _are_ good," he complimented, "Then if you know so much, any ideas what I'm to do? I've got no name, no money, no past and I could disappear at anytime apparently."

"You're creative. Make something up," was the pragmatic answer. 

"Wow, you really strained your brain for _that_ one, didn't you?"

"Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer," was the response, causing Harry to bang his head against the table. 

"You know what this means, don't you?" Harry groaned.

Lorne didn't have much sympathy, "I can guess."

"I _hate_ the Watchers' Council," Harry groused, "And I'm British!" 

There was a strained silence for a moment before Lorne decided to take the initiative and pry a little further, "You're worried." It was not a question. 

"More like pensive. I have a lot of decisions to make." Harry rose abruptly and knocked over a chair, "Heads are going to roll for this," he muttered. "Thanks for the help, what little of it there was."

"Gee, that had to be the most gushing display of gratitude I ever had the pleasure of witnessing," Lorne said sardonically.

"Yeah well, what can I say? I'm having one hell of a day." He turned to leave but stopped when Lorne called out his name.

"Harry? Try not to get killed, okay?"

Harry gave a small smile, "I'm kinda hard to kill." And with that he apparated out of Caritas. His destination: England. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

_"Often, the surest way to convey misinformation is to tell the strict truth." _

_-- Mark Twain, "Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar"_

Harry grimaced as he apparated into a secluded little nook in a side street next to the entrance of Watchers' Council Headquarters in London. 

He needed information from a source that would believe him. Supernatural information. That meant he had to go to the Watchers' Council Headquarters. He _hated_ the Watchers' Council. With all the bloody vengeance that one could possibly muster when forced to endure their bureaucratic, overbearing, stuffy, out-dated and tyrannical ways. Suffice it to say, he did _not_ take well to being bossed about and told that he was a 'tool' to be used and discarded if it wasn't up to scratch. Their callous views towards the slayers that sacrificed their lives to keep them safe in their opulent offices galled him. The countless slayers came and went, getting no credit for their life's work but the Watchers patted themselves on the back, saying "Jolly good show old chap!" 

It made him sick.

 And he was sure that they were probably even worse now than they had been when he first met them. After all there was, as of yet, no Buffy Summers to show them who was boss and considering the petite blonde Californian slayer was the first slayer to _ever_ quit the Council, they had had nobody to shake them up. 

Until now at least. 

They would expect a dutiful, obedient, Council-fearing little slayer who would bow to their every whim. Harry was, under no circumstances, going to do anything they said. Well, at least not unless he was planning on doing it anyway. It was about time to shake up the system, Harry thought with a grin. If there was one thing Albus Dumbledore had taught Harry, it was not to bow to _anyone_. 

Strolling into the Watchers' Council headquarters like he owned the place, having disabled the wards and alarms with ease, he ignored the poor receptionist staring at him in shock and headed to the elevators. 

"Hey you!" the receptionist shouted, her shrill voice carrying across the lobby, "You're not allowed go there! Stop!" 

Harry snorted, as if _that_ was going to stop him. He could hear her calling for security and with much glee, he waited for them to come running and then he blasted him across the hall, "I _so_ don't have time for this," he complained, before entering the elevator banks and using a handy little spell, gained access to the password restricted underground levels. 

Pulling his invisibility cloak around him, he headed for the office of the only watcher he could trust in this time. Rupert Giles, Gryffindor, class of 1975.

Needless to say the young Rupert Giles was shocked to see a disembodied head appear in his office. Luckily for Harry, he'd placed a silencing charm around the room as Giles had his wand out in ten seconds flat. "Peace Ripper," Harry said, using Giles' nickname from his schooldays. 

That got the young watcher's attention. "Who are you?" he demanded, "What are you doing here?"

Harry took the cloak off and smiled, "Don't even think of hexing me Ripper, I'll just send it right back. But in answer to your question, I am a Hogwarts student, not a Death Eater but I am known as Harry. The Vampire Slayer."

Giles stood up, anger etched in his face, "I don't know who put you up to this but you had better get out of here before I do something I probably won't regret."

Harry arched an eyebrow and quicker than Giles could follow, his hand shot out and smashed straight _through_ the wall of Giles' office. And when he pulled it back out, there wasn't even a scratch. Giles gaped at him, his jaw nearly hanging to the floor. Harry gave him a little time to collect himself before initiating any more conversation.

Giles quickly re-evaluated his opinions on the person in front of him. He couldn't be a vampire or demon as they couldn't get into the Council building but he was clearly a wizard. And if he could be believed a Vampire Slayer. But that was impossible.

The boy was pale and dark-haired with brilliant emerald green eyes, average height, slim build and probably around sixteen years of age. That wall was solid brick, he should _not_ under any circumstances have been able to punch through a solid wall. "Explain," he demanded hoarsely, sinking back into the chair.

"The short version?" Harry said, "The Powers screwed up, a slayer died, I got called."

"Impossible!" Giles blustered, "The latest slayer was called three months ago and is still alive."

"I never said I was from _this_ time."

"What?!" Giles shouted, "Okay, that's it! I've had it! Ethan put you up to this didn't he? Just get out!"

"Sorry. Can't," Harry said, pulling out his wand and pointing it at Giles, "I'm in a sticky situation and you are going to help me get out of it. Whether you want to or not."

Calmly summoning Giles' wand and placing an immobilisation charm on the man, he took a seat and explained the whole long story to the now hopping mad watcher.

When he had finished, he removed the charm and Giles immediately started speaking, "It's impossible! Even if I were to believe you, you're a _boy_! It's unheard of! The Council would never stand it… and you're laughing at me aren't you?" he asked, noting Harry's amused expression. 

"Oh do go on," Harry said pleasantly, "I'm enjoying listening to you making a fool of yourself."

"Give me one reason why I should believe you."

"I can give you several. For instance in my time, you got back together with an old flame for a while. Olivia I believe?" He was rewarded with Giles' slight blush, "And then there's Eyghon, the demon you and Ethan Rayne and your other friends raised. The one that got out of control and took over a friend of yours by the name of Randall. I also know you never wanted to be a Watcher at first, but you are now a third generation Watcher just like your father wanted."

Giles was staring again. The information about Eghyon was too detailed to be made up and nobody but those involved had ever known what had happened. It wasn't the sort of thing you put down on your résumé after all. "I think I believe you," he said slowly. "But were you by any chance named after Harry Houdini? Because you sure as hell act like him, always getting yourself into impossible situations." 

"I wasn't exactly planning on coming here," Harry said sardonically.

"So you defeated Voldemort?" Giles asked, his head reeling.

"As I said. But he kinda came back. He's like a cockroach in that way."

"But how did you survive the Killing Curse?"

"No one really knows but I was told it was because of my mother's sacrifice."

"No Harry, it wasn't your mother's sacrifice." Giles said, thinking on it for a minute, "Many mothers gave their lives for their children since Voldemort surfaced and none of their sacrifices made any difference. The protection she gave you meant that Voldemort couldn't touch you physically, the Killing curse is another matter."

"So are you going to help me?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Do I have any choice?" Giles asked before lowering his head to the desk, "Oh the Council are going to have a field day with this!" he moaned, "I'll be filling out paperwork for months!" 

"The Council doesn't have to know," Harry pointed out.

"You broke in here. I think they noticed."

"Probably. But they're looking for an intruder they'll never find. I'm quite good with spells of illusion. Right now, the Watchers' security detail has probably just witnessed one spectacular dive off the roof by fake-me. They'll then spend the next few weeks yelling at security for letting me in and giving me all sorts of glee and revenge induced happy thoughts."

"You don't like the Council much, do you?" Giles asked, only half disapprovingly.

"Oh sure, they're up there with erupting volcanoes and end of the world disasters on my likeable things list."

"Maybe I should tell Travers*** about this then?" Giles teased.

"Shut up Giles or I'll shrink you and feed you to a boa constrictor." Harry replied, snarling at the very thought. "Now are you going to help me?"

"Help you find a way back to your time? I don't even know where to begin! This has never actually happened before since the Council was founded!"

"Well, starting with your precious books might be a good idea," Harry suggested, "And any advice would be much appreciated."

"Well, it looks like you're stuck here for a while. So get a new identity."

"Yeah, I can see how they're so easy to get!" Harry cried, "At least tell me about the Voldemort situation!" 

"The Voldemort situation?" Giles repeated disbelievingly, "Most wizards and witches tend to call him You-Know-Who and oh yes, he's trying to take over the Wizarding world."

"I knew that but I need details," Harry pressed, "I need to know what he's up to!"

Giles unlocked a drawer in his desk and pulled out a few rolls of parchment. Unrolling one, he spread it out on the desk and Harry could see it was a map. "The war with Voldemort is a civil war in the Wizarding world." Giles started, "Most are divided at this point. Most of the pureblood families back him up, though covertly, most have probably joined the Death Eaters or are at least allied with them. Then there's Dumbledore's faction which is growing and those who cower behind the supposed safety of a corrupted Ministry of Magic and grossly ineffective aurors. The aurors are nearly as bad as the Death Eaters since they were allowed to perform the Unforgivable curses at their discretion." 

Giles paused, grabbing a marker, "Voldemort is mobilising his armies at strategic positions all over the globe," he explained as he marked areas on the map. His plans for the moment seem to be the takeover of the Wizarding world for the moment. He tortures Muggles for fun or if he's bored but he won't try and control them as well until he has the wizarding world firmly under his command."

"He's not going to attack openly, not yet. It wouldn't be worth it." Harry agreed, "Muggles outnumber the Wizarding population by over a million to one. Even with magic on our side we could not fight off such numbers if the muggles ever began hunting for us."

"Voldemort doesn't understand muggles. While I agree with them being inferior with regards to our power levels, they outnumber us and over the years they have invented many different ways of killing each other. Even wizards and witches can die by muggle means. He doesn't seem to understand that we couldn't fight them off forever and that victory for us would be uncertain at best. The Council knows this. We and all involved in the occult world, well except for the bad guys, go to great lengths to avoid detection by muggles and most of the wizarding population. Those who try and expose them die. Simple and brutal but effective." Giles went on, "But in the Wizarding world, they're not far away from instating martial law as both sides grow. Unfortunately the way things look, Voldemort has the upper hand, until well, until baby-you does whatever you did."

"Right so it's chaos, fear, panic and on the verge of war. What a happy little time I had to fall into."

"I have to ask you, what's your view on this?" Giles asked, "The Watchers Council and the Slayer will not be getting involved unless we come under threat. Which we won't, considering most of the more powerful demons are staying out of this as well. Until they see who wins at least."

"Actually, I agree with neither side. I believe none of them are right in their ideals so I'm stuck in the middle on this one."

"So you're going to stay out of it?"

"Not exactly. I have to have a policy of zero tolerance. If I let my enemies live they'll just come back with reinforcements and I'll eventually end up dying. That policy extends to Death Eaters. Plus I have those I _really_ want to get my revenge on and it seems there's a mighty long list of them."

"So you're planning on doing what?"

"The way I see it is that either I'm going to join in on one side of this war, continue to play both sides or pull out altogether and watch from a safe distance as you tear each other to pieces.  

"Playing both sides, isn't that kinda risky?" 

"I don't plan to get caught." 

"What about the future? You could accidentally change it!" 

"Oh, Lorne said that probably wouldn't happen as long as I was careful and I doubt either side will mind too much as long as I leave chaos, mayhem, panic and disorder in my wake for the other side."

"Still doesn't solve any of your problems," Giles said, leaning back into the worn leather of his chair.

"Yeah, well everyone I ask seems to be turning up a fat load of nothing so what can I expect?"

"What are you going to do? You can't stay in my office much longer. I'm going have to repair the wall and then get a lecture from one of my vaunted superiors about punctuality for the meeting I was supposed to be attending half an hour ago."

"I'd say I was sorry but I would be lying. But I'll take the hint and leave," Harry said, standing up, "Send me anything you can find about my little time-travel predicament by owl. I'll tell you what alias I'll be going under when I actually acquire one. Tell Travers anything and I'll personally resurrect Egyhon to come and get you!"

Giles just nodded, knowing he'd keep his word about resurrecting the demon and so Harry covered himself in the cloak and snuck out of the Council building. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Now Harry had another problem, he was facing an as of yet unexplained extended stay in the past with no identity, no history, no money and no lodgings. Hardly the ideal situation. 

Considering that Harry Potter didn't exist yet in this time, Harry would undoubtedly have to take some rather _unorthodox_ methods of acquiring funds, and in turn, a life. Especially since, he knew that even if he announced his presence to the Council, it wouldn't give him a penny. More like a one way trip to heaven or hell. Whichever would have him anyway and wherever dead slayers ended up.

A slow smile crossed his face as his poor, overtaxed brain come up with a somewhat decent, and deeply satisfying, plan. Sometimes his resemblance to the Dark Lord was a curse, but in this case, it was going to be a blast…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Grishnak, the chief Goblin on duty at Gringotts, nearly had a heart attack when a black cloaked figure that radiated power and malevolence, waltzed into the bank looking for all the world as though he owned it. His features couldn't be made out properly due to the concealing hood, but the slitted crimson eyes burning holes into all they looked at, were a very good confirmation of the figure's identity. 

The rest of the Goblins on duty stared, and then the instinct for self-preservation took over as they dived under their counters and tables. After grabbing the money and jewels to take with them of course.

Unfortunately Grishnak didn't have that privilege and so was forced to stand there in abject horror, quaking visibly while trying – and not doing a very good job of it – to find any of his superiors to come and take over then handling of the now approaching wizard. It didn't even occur to him to send for security, instigating duels in front of customers was just _so_ bad for business. Plus the cost of repairing the damage just wasn't worthwhile. The Dark Lord was just _so_ testy when he felt he was being slighted. 

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came to a stop in front of him and in an elegant motion, laid a sheet of thick parchment on the counter before the terrified Goblin. "I want this request fulfilled immediately," he hissed in sibilant tones. 

Grishnak nodded dumbly, glad that he wasn't going to be killed for the moment. He _hated_ dealing with dark wizards; they were just too inclined to curse you whenever the whim took them. Taking the parchment with trembling hands, he could literally feel the stares of a dozen sets of fellow Goblins observing his every move from their little hiding places.

Giving the parchment a cursory glance, he gave a low bow, "Of course good sir," he answered politely. "This will only be ten minutes at most, sir, would you care to take a seat while I fetch it sir?"

Ruby red eyes narrowed and the Dark Lord waved dismissively, "Just get on with it. I don't have all day to wait on your incompetence."

Grishnak bowed again and scurried away, thanking all the gods he knew for sparing his life.

Returning a few minutes later, he handed the small leather pouch to the Dark Lord, not daring to look him in the eye, and didn't dare stop holding his breath until the Terror himself had left.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Now the creation of an identity was a very tricky business. _Especially_ in the wizarding world. After all, wizards tended to pride themselves on their bloodlines and he, at the moment, couldn't lay claim to any. With the Dark Lord's view of muggles, it wouldn't be safe to pose as muggle-born or even half-blood if he was sorted into Slytherin, like he expected he would be. But most purebloods were well known, well documented and in most cases – the Weasleys being the exception – very rich. 

So not only did he have to forge the necessary documents, he also had to forge the necessary pedigree to pass Ministry muster. It wouldn't do much good if he got himself killed before he could get back to his time and he most certainly couldn't kill half the people he wanted to, (Dumbledore, Voldemort, Angelus etc) so he had to just blend in. But by Merlin, there was no way that he was going to end up in Gryffindor again. And most certainly not Hufflepuff. At this stage, he felt quite inclined to go with the sorting hat and go to Slytherin. But he was getting ahead of himself. First he had to make himself legally exist, come up with a plausible excuse for no one having seen him for sixteen years and enrol back into Hogwarts where he could see what the dear old Dark Lord was up to and have fun annoying Dumbledore in every way possible. 

But first things first, he needed a name to work with. And for that he would have to do some serious research. So off to the Ministry of Magic vault of records it was. 

*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*

The vault of records, while huge, was rather unimpressive due to the disorderly layout and piles of dust that covered nearly everything inside it. Since spells to automatically record the traditional births, deaths, marriages and property statuses were invented, the need for someone to work down there had become non-existent. Considering most families would make their lawyers slog through their paperwork instead of them, Harry was probably the first visitor here in years. 

The only question now was where was he supposed to start?

Casting a quick cleaning charm so he wouldn't choke on the many clouds of dust, he cast an adapted version of the 'point me' spell that showed direction. It led him over to the section he wanted; the deceased.

It took him hours but finally he had a few viable matches laid out in front of him. With the ongoing battle between Voldemort's ever increasing followers and the growing brutality of the aurors, many families had had the misfortune to get caught in the crossfire. 

And when that happened, your life expectancy shortened to about a second. 

Now this was where Harry had to be careful. His plan was to assume the identity of one of these deceased people, preferably a relatively reclusive family. If he picked a baby or toddler to impersonate, he could always claim that he'd been raised by relatives in the Americas or something like that. It was a rather gruesome task wading through the piles of paperwork and Harry had to mull over the fact that how many vampires had been recorded as deceased in these very files. 

The family that seemed his best option was French but a British witch had married the only heir in 1966. That family had had a son on August 29th, 1968. That family had been killed in a raid by aurors scarcely three months later. Both adults had done nothing wrong, but had been raided for signs of Dark Arts involvement, just like every other pureblood family at that time. The Ministry realising that was where the rising dark views were gathering the most support and backing. The child's crib, according to the report, had been hit with a stray incendio charm and had gone up in flames. The parents had been duelling for their lives downstairs and the auror who had cast the awry spell had been checking the rooms for anyone else. He hadn't realised his mistake until afterwards, when the aurors rechecked every room for Dark Arts artefacts. The child had been presumed dead and the auror responsible hadn't even received a reprimand, citing it as accidental and a sign of negligence on behalf of the parents. 

What times they were living in, Harry wondered, Voldemort hadn't even been a factor back then and still the Ministry had allowed public fear and paranoia to justify their own crimes.

But what made that family perfect for his current needs was that they had had no living relatives in Europe at least and so there would be no one to challenge a claim. He could claim that the parents had portkeyed out their defenceless son and that he hadn't been of sufficient age to return and claim what was rightfully his until now. Plus it would only highlight what had been done by their precious aurors before there had ever been a need for such measures, if there would _ever_ be a need to justify such measures. 

More importantly the family's pureblood status and ample reason to be frightfully angry and vengeful towards the Ministry would help him fit into the tightly knit Slytherin hierarchy in Hogwarts and perhaps even be privy to some of the Dark Lord's machinations and plans. All of which could only help him when he returned to his own time and could get his own little dose of revenge on the snake-faced wannabe conqueror of the world. 

There was only the matter of several layers of disguising and masking spells on his rather infamous, (or was it would be infamous?) scar and he felt secure enough to not be confused with the future 'Boy-Who-Lived'.

And so it was that Seth De Lancre became a living entity once more, in the form of one Harry James Potter. 

~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~**~**~

It took him days of paperwork and interviews at the Ministry of Magic before he had them convinced. And by that time he could recite his fabricated tale in his sleep. 

He was Seth De Lancre, sixteen years old at the end of August and the only remaining member of the De Lancre family. His parents, Andre and Darina De Lancre, during the unprovoked raid, had portkeyed him out to a cousin of his mother's, who lived in America but who had passed away in June and he, nearly of age, had returned to England to claim the portion of his estate that was there, along with his father's estate in France. Yes, he planned to enrol in Hogwarts. No, he hadn't gone to a wizarding school. Yes, he wanted an exemption from the under-age wizardry laws. His mother's cousin Therese Porter, (another person he'd had to forge documents for) had been a retired teacher and had home schooled him, being a rather old-fashioned witch and disapproving of the rather muggle-orientated courses that had been introduced in the American schools of magic. No, he wasn't planning on pressing charges against the Ministry. 

_That_ they had been very concerned about, but he'd kept close-lipped about it, only saying that he had no wish to bring back bad memories. The unspoken 'yet' had been picked up on and surprisingly enough the idiots and sycophants that made up the Ministry were quite co-operative. 

Mentally he sneered at them, but on the other hand, it did save him an awful lot of hassle. Pentheus Binsted, the current Minister of Magic, was far more focused on trying to get rid of dark wizards than he was on any other part of the Ministry, so the other department heads could pretty much do as they liked. 

So that was the main reason that only six days after he had shown up with his documents, (expertly forged of course – it paid to have contacts in the world of things going bump in the night. Not to mention Giles.) he was officially recognised as the De Lancre heir and his lands and moneys restored to him.

He now had a manor in the Loire Valley in France, another in England and a summer villa in Italy. And apparently that wasn't considered anything unusual, several homes being the norm with some of the wizarding world. It really made him wonder about the Potter estate, one that he'd never been allowed seek information about, and considering that James Potter had been old blood; it was entirely likely that he had had enough wealth and a house to live in which meant he could have supported himself, away from the horrible Dursleys. Yet another thing to get back at Dumbledore for. 

Choosing to establish his home in England as he would be enrolling at Hogwarts – hopefully – he apparated to the manor that would be his home for however long he was doomed to stay trapped in this time.

~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~**~*

The De Lancre Manor was built a grand, rambling estate called Druid's Glen, whose grounds stretched on for some miles and had Harry's jaw firmly planted on the ground. 

One word summed it up. Wow.

He could almost forgive Lucius Malfoy for his arrogance, if Malfoy Manor was anything like what he was looking at now.

The manor looked more like a small castle but after walking up to the front door, he could still see evidence of what had happened to its former inhabitants. The wards were ruptured and almost non-existent, the front doors hung awkwardly from their hinges and the many scorch marks that signified a duel stretched all the way from the entrance, through the large foyer and all the way up the stairs. 

It was remarkably free of dust, probably due to anti-dust spells but he couldn't be certain. How in the name of Merlin was he going to manage this? The entire Dursley house could fit into the foyer, cleaning up the entire manor would be a chore he couldn't manage alone even if he had all year to do it. 

A few repairing charms could fix the doors and the marks on the walls and floors but he needed help. He could almost hear Hermione lecturing about the rights of House Elves as he thought it. But then again, why should he care about her anymore? Still, he'd have to try and find a House Elf that would be willing to allow him to pay them. He grimaced slightly; the only one that had ever fit that description was Dobby, who was unavailable and bound to the Malfoys. 

Oh well, he could deal with the trivial stuff later. Now it was time to turn to the important stuff, like the wards for example. 

They had to be built, erected and set and then keyed to himself. A hard task for any wizard to do, but when one had the misfortune of making enemies as quickly as he did… well, they had to work some, or a lot of, extra specifications into the design. 

By the time he was finished, his wards were rainbow coloured and intricately woven, to any who had the eyes to see it, and they were laden with lots of nasty little curses and hexes that he'd picked up from their not so welcome use on him. No one was going to get into his house without an invitation. 

Not unless they _wanted_ to be stuck in St Mungos for the rest of their lives at least. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

By noon the next day, he had looked through the Hogwarts prospectus and had sent an owl from the nearest post office, stating his intention to enrol as a sixth year transfer student. Two hours later, while he was debating over subject choices, a barn owl with the Hogwarts crest flew in and dropped a letter on the table. 

                                 _ HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_                                                  Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore._

_                                 (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, _

_                                 Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr De Lancre, _

_        We are pleased to inform you that your application has been reviewed and an interview arranged with the headmaster and myself in four days time at 1p.m. We look forward to meeting you._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Well not much had changed on that front, Harry mused, despising the fact that he'd have to be polite to _Dumbledore_. Well, he'd manage and if he was lucky, he just might be able to fool the old coot into thinking he was shy and harmless. 

That thought and his ensuing plans only brought a smile to his face. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Sighing, Harry rubbed his eyes and laid down the Hogwarts prospectus. There were a lot of courses available at NEWT level that hadn't been in existence in this time. Apparently the reason was that the Ministry was always looking for more aurors and so a tougher curriculum was brought in, with the intention to help the students learn to defend themselves in times of war, and let's not forget that it knocked a year off the auror training program. So he had a _lot_ of choices.

Classes he would have loved to have in his time could be his now, could help him learn everything he needed to know when combined with his extracurricular studies. Boy would future Dumbledore and Voldemort have a surprise. He frowned, at the moment they were both probably doing their own respective dances of joy. He was out of their hair for now but if he had anything to say about it, he'd be back. And when he was, then nothing was going to save them. 

If he was cunning enough, he could lay the groundwork for their respective falls from power while he was here. He wasn't sure whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. While it would undoubtedly be fun manipulating people, the staggering amount of carefully laid plans that he would to hatch daunted him ever so slightly. But he'd cope, he always did.

His potential classes went like this: Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, and Herbology were the core classes at NEWT level. After them, you could pick six classes to supplement them, which were: - Battle and Defensive magic, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Warding classes, Medi-healing, Care of Magical Creatures, History of Magic, Wandless Self-Defence, Magical Theory, Animagus classes, and Duelling class. 

Oh the possibilities…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

After taking a luxurious shower, Harry came to the conclusion that he needed to do some serious shopping. He had most of his stuff with him; thank Merlin, having been planning to leave Hogwarts after the ball. Not in the manner he had though. 

Some of his clothes had survived the trip but they had been in the right pocket of his robes, which had been hit some spell and now the pocket was a ragged, gaping hole. He needed a whole new set of clothes, including some school robes, some things for the house, get a new broom, a secondary wand, a familiar, some books to help him with his predicament, some new potion supplies and he needed to hire a House Elf. 

He thought it was a rather extensive list. 

And there was only one place he could get everything he needed: Diagon Alley. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

By now it was mid-August and the Hogwarts letters had gone out so Diagon Alley was crowded with Hogwarts students and their parents, as well as the normal alley occupants. 

His first stop was at Madam Malkin's, who seemed delighted at his large order and was too curious for his tastes when she enquired about his request for the Hogwarts school robes, without a house crest. When she heard he was transferring, she'd been very eager to ask questions about where he'd come from and about his British accent but she was eventually deterred by Harry's stony silence. 

All her chatter didn't stop Harry from feeling as though he was being watched. And glancing at the other end of the store he saw a boy getting fitted for his Hogwarts robes too. He had light brown hair and alert blue eyes but Harry made no move to start a conversation with him, remembering all too clearly his first encounter with Draco Malfoy. 

As soon as he was able, he escaped into the alley, dreading when he'd have to go back there to pick up his order. Now that he had his clothes on order, he needed to attend to what was, undoubtedly, the most important business he had in Diagon Alley; the purchase of a second wand.

As his wand had its rather… unique and bothersome reaction and with his feather coming from Fawkes, he couldn't chance another incident like in his fourth year, ergo he needed a second wand for him to use in this time. 

He sincerely hoped that this new wand wouldn't turn out to be 'curious' too.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*

If Harry was any accurate judge, Ollivander's hadn't changed since it opened in 382 b.c. And it was just as covered in dust and long, thin boxes as it had been when he had first entered the shop at age eleven. 

The bell clanged as he opened the door and before long, Ollivander's moon pale eyes appeared from the deep recesses of the shop. The man blinked a couple of times and then approached the counter at a snail's pace.

"You are here for a wand I presume?" 

"My first wand was broken by accident and couldn't be repaired."

"A most unfortunate accident." Ollivander said slowly, studying Harry carefully, making the young wizard feel like he was under a microscope. "Ah, young sir," Ollivander said at last, after a lengthy silence, "I must admit I had not expected you. 'Tis a most unusual occurrence that. I had thought I knew of nearly all who would come to me in search of a wand. And yet I had not reckoned on you."

"My name is Seth De Lancre. I was raised in the Americas." Harry replied, hoping that he wouldn't get an interrogation. The nearest alternative wandmaker was Gregoravitch in Bulgaria and that was a long way away and he didn't speak Bulgarian. "Can you accommodate me?"

Ollivander shot him another long look, before reaching into the stacks of boxes behind him.

"Which is your wand arm?"

"My right," Harry answered. 

Ollivander didn't reply, instead he darted between the rows of tall shelving like a firefly and returned a few minutes later with a stack of boxes piled in his arms. He carefully unwrapped the packaging in the first box and took out the wand, handing it to Harry, "Here, try this one. Nine and a half inches, flexible, Dragon heartstring and willow."

Harry obligingly gave it a swish but felt none of the rush of warmth that had signalled his ownership of his other wand. 

Ollivander snatched it out of his hand in an instant and had another to replace it just as quickly, "Eleven inches, springy, holly and unicorn hair," he said as Harry dutifully waved it, feeling just as foolish as he had when he'd done it as a first year. In fact, he thought, eyeing the wand severely, hadn't he tried out this very wand then… in the future… oh whatever! He sincerely hoped that it wouldn't take as long as it had then.

Ollivander again snatched back the wand and soon Harry found himself waving and swishing a huge pile of wands, often the shopkeeper went so fast that Harry could barely hear their descriptions.

"Here, ebony and phoenix feather, eight inches, inflexible. No! No good… Oak and veela hair, thirteen inches… no, not that one…" and it went on in this vein for a good twenty minutes before Harry finally found what he had been looking for. 

The old wizard handed him the box and he carefully picked up the wand inside. Immediately some green and gold sparks flew from the tip and Harry felt that much searched for rush of warmth run up his arm. 

"Ten and a half inches, pliable, Rosewood and a tail-hair from a black unicorn, most rare…" Ollivander elaborated, "Black unicorns are so very hard to get a hold of nowadays." He looked at Harry again, seeming to be re-evaluating his opinions on the young boy, "An unusual combination…" Ollivander mused. "Perhaps you should have a go at a spell?"

Harry raised an eyebrow and shot the man an incredulous look, "And what about the decree for the restriction of underage wizardry?" he asked, not mentioning his own little exemption from said decree.

"You're surrounded by wands and this shop has been shielded from the Ministry otherwise they'd be here on a permanent basis, do you know how many first years perform accidental magic with their wands? Nearly all unfortunately. I've lost so many vases that way…"

Harry mentally shrugged and then decided to give it a go. Spinning around, he pointed it at one of the boxes that lay on the counter and brought it swishing down while saying, "Wingardium Leviosa." The box floated for a moment before Harry released the charm. "It's perfect Mr Ollivander. Thank you."

After paying the wandmaker, Harry hurried out of the shop, strapping his secondary wand to a holster on the inside of his arm, while he felt the reassuring warmth of his first and primary wand emanating from its position on a holster on his hip, hidden by concealing charms. Now that he had that sorted out, it was time to turn his attention to more trivial matters. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*

Harry wandered through the Magical Menagerie, feeling like he was a kid in a candy store. He had need for an animal companion of a sort, seeing as he was nearly bereft of friends in this time. Plus the fact that usually, animals tended to be more loyal than humans, and less likely to develop the urge to take over the world, unlike some he could mention. 

He didn't necessarily want a replacement for Hedwig, who had always served him faithfully, but he needed a familiar in this time too. And while the Slytherin part of him wanted a snake or serpent of some sort, the logical part of his brain (aka the bit interested in his continued existence) pointed out that advertising his status as a Parselmouth in an era where Voldemort was beating back the so called 'good guys' and was renowned for being the only Parselmouth of the time wouldn't be a good thing. So that meant he had to choose a somewhat safer option.

He didn't really want an owl; he would have Hedwig when he returned home and the last time he'd gotten Hedwig miffed, she'd nipped his cheek and refused to carry any letters for a week. Just puffing up her feathers and looking at him sternly from her yellow eyes. 

So that left cat, rat or toad. Now the toad didn't appeal and he hated rats with a passion since the Peter Pettigrew incident. Since then he'd always felt the urge to curse them senseless. Which left him with the cat option.

But he was a bit of cat himself, so that wasn't ideal either. 

Browsing through the rather cramped shop, he finally found something that caught his attention. Preening itself in its cage was a kneazle. The kneazle was a small, cat-like creature with black and white speckled fur, big ears and a tale that resembled a lion. But this one was smaller than normal, obviously only a kitten. 

It was also staring at him.

Harry firmly decided that this was the pet he'd choose. Now if he could just get around the pesky problem of the special licence required to own one.

Surprisingly enough the clerk was very helpful, informing him that it was up to the pet storeowner's discretion when it came to issuing a licence. And the storeowner had no problem apparently with issuing a licence to a pureblood, (boy had the Ministry grapevine moved fast!) who, it was generally thought, would have little to no contact with Muggles so the chances of a Muggle seeing the (strange to their eyes) kneazle were nearly non existent. 

And so within half an hour, Harry was the proud owner of the kneazle he had taken a liking to and it seemed a case of mutual liking when the as of yet nameless kneazle kitten curled against him and purred loudly. Apparently Harry had gotten his (for it was a male kitten) seal of approval. 

And so it was that a very pleased and not alone Harry left the Magical Menagerie. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*

After stopping at a branch of the WEA (Wizarding Employment Agency), an organisation that he'd never heard of before, he, almost helplessly lost in the storm of bureaucracy, just abruptly stopped the cheerfully babbling plump witch who was supposed to be listening to _him_, not the other way round and bluntly demanded that she take his request, process it, and come back to him with something suitable before he hexed her with a silencing spell.

Needless to say she was highly offended but did as she was told as she deliberately flounced off. 

Returning five minutes later, she dropped several files on her desk, "Well Mr De Lancre, with the specifications on your manor you'll need two House Elves. I have some very good workers on the books that you may take a look at, if that is satisfactory of course," she said, sneering out the last bit.

"Which ones would be willing to be free, with clothes, and would be willing to be paid for the work they do?"

The witch seemed shocked, "_Pay_ a _House Elf_?!" she exclaimed, "Are you mad?!"

"Just eccentric I'm afraid now I won't have it any other way. Can you fulfil my requirements or should I go elsewhere?" he said coldly, not wanting to spend any more time that necessary on this highly annoying woman. 

It took quite a bit of cajoling and endurance of horrified stares before he got two House Elves to agree to come work for him. A slightly hyperactive elf called Zippy, who proudly wore his new tea towel and another, more subdued one called Pippy. Apparently the two were related or something of the sort. Harry hadn't pursued that line of questioning, not wanting to know _any_ of the details of House Elf procreation.

As he still had work to do in Diagon Alley he keyed the two to the wards and apparated them to Druid's Glen, along with his new and still nameless kitten, where they could familiarise themselves with the layout. They definitely seemed cheerful enough, almost bouncing off the walls and reminding him of some of Dobby's antics when he showed them into their new bedrooms near the kitchen. Sure they would be all right, Harry apparated back to Diagon Alley to finish his shopping. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*

A stack of books including An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed, Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions, A Guide to Medieval Sorcery, Hogwarts, A History, Important Modern Magical Discoveries, Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling, Modern Magical History, Moste Potente Potions, Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes, Powers You Never Knew You Had and What To Do With Them Now You've Wised Up, Predicting the Unpredictable: Insulate Yourself Against Shocks, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts – the Grindelwald Era, A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry, and An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms tottered unsteadily in his arms as he carried them towards the counter. 

He really wished Flourish and Blotts' version of security tags wasn't anti-magic wards on the books which were removed when you paid for them. He may be a slayer and very strong, but that didn't stop the pile from shaking and wobbling most threateningly. He realised on his senses to guide him along as he made his way across the shop, since his vision was somewhat or more like almost completely, obscured thanks to the tall pile. And so it was that when he sensed an impending collision it was too late.

Two speeding bodies ploughed into him and his precarious hold on the stack of books gave and he, and the books went crashing to the floor with a tremendous heap. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*

His temper stirring angrily, he shoved 'Most Potente Potions' from its current position on his face and stood up, the books shifting and falling off him as he rose.

Moving to glare, and hopefully hex into a million pieces, at his attacker, he took a good look and froze.

It couldn't be. But it undeniably was. Lanky and stocky frames respectively, vibrant red hair, freckles and slightly shabby robes. They couldn't be anything but Weasleys. Bill and Charlie Weasley to be precise. Talk about a brain freeze.

He'd never seen these two as anything but grown men but here they were, about nine to eleven years old, just after smashing into him. It didn't get any more in your face than that. 

The two looked horrified and abashed at being the cause of an accident and Bill, the elder, seemed to be trying to think up a suitable explanation. 

 A shrill, angry voice sounded through the back-to-school crowd, "Bill! Charlie! Where _have_ you got to?" he heard the voice of Molly Weasley shout and saw as the two redheaded boys adopted identical panicked expressions in response to their mother's call. 

The plump redheaded and heavily pregnant matriarch of the Weasley family shoved her way through the crowd, followed by another small redheaded toddler was clutching her hand, who Harry knew had to be Percy. She stopped in abrupt horror as she noticed a dark-haired young man, surrounded by a horde of books scattered all over the floor glaring at her two eldest and redfaced sons. 

"Bill and Charlie Weasley!" Molly exclaimed, "What have you done now?" The two boys looked down at their shoes.

Harry decided to diffuse the situation, "We had a bit of a collision I'm afraid, a complete accident." Molly's face was starting to gain that look it usually got just before she started lecturing and judging by the groans from Bill and Charlie they recognised it too. "And I'll just be going now," Harry said hurriedly, really not wanting to get into the middle of Weasley family politics. He'd had enough of that with Ron. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*

Going down Knockturn Alley had been a mistake, Harry admitted. A _big_ mistake. With his luck, he shouldn't have tempted fate.

Because fate delivered. With all sorts of extra bonuses free. Wasn't that nice of it? Before he had sensed them coming, (his senses being dampened by the high quality wards on said 'them').

Apparently Harry had just been chosen as the main course for some vamp's nightly gorge. Slamming his elbow into the vamp's gut, he flipped him over his shoulder and then kicked out a leg to sweep the feet out from under the other two vampires, both females.

Harry pushed himself off the ground in a fluid motion and got a good look at his attackers…

No, no it couldn't be. Life just _couldn't_ be so cruel. But it was. 

Harry looked at Darla, Drusilla and Spike, Sire, Childe and Grandchilde of that ultimate annoyance Angelus respectively. Just what was it with his luck? Nobody's could be _this_ bad! "What's this? A family reunion? Oh lucky me!" he sneered. 

The three Master Vampires eyed their prospective meal warily, they obviously hadn't expected resistance. Harry pulled out his wand, "Listen here, go find some other meal some place that's not here or else it'll be a few nice fireball charms."

"You don't expect us to just walk away do you?" Darla said with a slow, smug smile. "There's three of us and only one of you." Great, thought Harry, she has to pick _this_ day to play predator. 

To everyone's shock, it was Drusilla who vetoed the tasty looking morsel. "No, no, we shall not eat him," she said, swaying on her feet, like she was moving to music only she could here. Which she probably was. "The kitten's got tainted blood. 'twill only made us sick." 

"What on earth are you muttering about luv?" Spike asked, sounding slightly peeved. "We do have reputations to think about you know."

"The boy must live. For a while. The stars say so," Drusilla said, eyeing Harry, "He's here to do some wicked wicked things and we shall let him." This statement confused everybody, including Harry, but then again he'd never claimed to understand the crazy vampiress. 

He couldn't kill them now so that meant his least favourite option; retreat. "Well, I'll just be seeing you around. Though if you're smart," Harry warned, "You won't come near me again." They didn't stop him as he walked away and when he was at the entrance to the small alley he heard the insane vampiress call out to him. 

 "And kitten?"

"Yes?" he answered without slowing down or turning around. 

"Death is watching you."

Great! Just what he needed! _Another_ mass murderer out for his blood! Harry fumed as the meaning registered, and he quietly stormed through Knockturn Alley. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

**A/N:** Well, what do you think? By the way **_ENCOURAGEMENT_** **WORKS!** Keep it up!

* Bon Jovi's song 'Shot Through the Heart' was actually released in 1984. 

** Whistler is a demon who works for the Powers That Be, sent down to Earth to even the score between Good and Evil and who has _horrendous_ fashion sense. 

*** Quentin Travers is the much despised Head of the Watchers' Council. He doesn't like Slayers who think for themselves and in the canon Buffy series, would probably enjoy dancing on her grave. In my fic, Travers hates Harry as well. 


	8. Timeline

**                                            HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF TIMELINE**

**A/N:** This timeline if for any questions, disputes etc that may arise. It will be updated as the story progresses.

**Circa 1000 A.D.**

The Founding of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry by Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. Soon after the school opens, Salazar Slytherin wants to ban muggle-born students from being educated there. Conflict grows between him and Godric Gryffindor. Salazar leaves Hogwarts. The Chamber of Secrets has been built by this time. Conflicts are also developing between the Magical and Muggle worlds. 

**1294******

The Triwizard Tournament is established between Beauxbatons, Durmstrang and Hogwarts.

**1326******

Birth of Nicholas Flamel.

**1300-1400 **

The persecution of witches reaches fever pitch. Many Muggles burned at the stake after being falsely accused of being witches. Any actual witches were able to make their escape. The Wizarding world withdraws from Muggle world. 

****

**October 1492**

Nearly Headless Nick's (aka Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington) dies by a near decapitation.

**1637**

The Werewolf code of conduct is brought into effect. 

**1692**

The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy is drawn up and implemented. 

**1840******

Birth of Albus Dumbledore.

**1851 – 1858**

Dumbledore attends Hogwarts. 

**1917**

Frank Bryce born. (killed by Voldemort at Riddle House in Little Hangleton.)

**1920******

Birth of Minerva McGonagall.

**1927 ******

Birth of Tom Marvolo Riddle. His mother (witch – descendant of Salazar Slytherin) dies, Tom Riddle Sr (Muggle) leaves them and Tom goes to an orphanage.

**1931 – 1938**

Minerva McGonagall attends Hogwarts. (Gryffindor)

**1932**

Fridwulfa leaves her husband and son.

**1938******

Tom Riddle starts his first year at Hogwarts. (Slytherin)

**1939 **

World War II starts in Europe. War in the wizarding world goes into overdrive. (Between Grindelwald, his followers and the forces of good.)

**1940******

Rubeus Hagrid starts his first year at Hogwarts. His mother is Fridwulfa the giantess and he has a wizard father. 

**1941 **

Hagrid's father dies.

**1942**

Albus Dumbledore becomes Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hired by Armando Dippet, then headmaster of Hogwarts. 

**1943******

Myrtle dies. 

Tom Riddle frames Hagrid as the person who opened the Chamber of Secrets.

Tom Riddle creates his enchanted diary. 

Hagrid becomes assistant groundskeeper courtesy of Dumbledore, the Transfiguration professor.

Tom Riddle starts to call himself Lord Voldemort in secret. A title created from the anagram of his name Tom Marvolo Riddle.

**1944**

Tom Riddle Senior and his parents are murdered in Riddle House, Little Hangleton, by Tom Riddle Junior.

Tom Riddle is made Head Boy.

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**1945**

World War II ends. 

Grindelwald is defeated by Albus Dumbledore.

Tom Riddle graduates from Hogwarts.

Tom Riddle disappears later in the year. 

**1968**

Severus Snape born to Augustus and Natalia Snape (nee Derevko) on June 21st.

James Potter born to Henry and Abigail Potter (nee Mallory) on January 4th.

Lily Evans born to John and Sophia Evans on May 20th.

Sirius Black born into the Black family dynasty on February 6th. 

Remus Lupin born on September 24th.

Peter Pettigrew born on April 25th. 

**1970**

Bartemius Crouch Junior born.

Albus Dumbledore becomes Headmaster of Hogwarts.

**1972 **

Remus Lupin is bitten by a Werewolf. 

**1974**

Bill Weasley born on October 10th.

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**1976**

Charlie Weasley born on January 31st.

**1979**

James Potter (Gryffindor), Sirius Black (Gryffindor), Lily Evans, Remus Lupin (Gryffindor), Peter Pettigrew (Gryffindor) and Severus Snape (Slytherin) attend their first year at Hogwarts. 

The Whomping Willow is planted.

First rumours that the 'Shrieking Shack' is haunted start to circulate. 

**1980**

James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew find out that Remus Lupin is a werewolf.

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**1982**

Percy Weasley born on March 18th. 

Oliver Wood born.

**1983**

James Potter (stag aka Prongs), Sirius Black (dog aka Padfoot) and Peter Pettigrew (Rat aka Wormtail) become animagi. 

Cedric Diggory born.

October: Angelina Johnson born. 

**1984**

August 5th: Harry arrives in the past. 

August 15th: Seth De Lancre retakes possession of Druids Glen.

The Marauder's Map is created.

Sirius Black tricks Severus Snape into going to the Shrieking Shack during the full moon. James Potter pulls him back in time but Severus learns that Remus Lupin is a werewolf. Severus Snape now owes a life debt to James Potter.

Fred and George Weasley born on April 271st.

**1985 **

Bill Weasley starts his first year at Hogwarts. (Gryffindor)

Lily Evans and James Potter are Head Girl and Head Boy. 

**1986 **

The Marauders generation graduates from Hogwarts.

**1987**

Charlie Weasley starts his first year at Hogwarts. (Gryffindor)

Peter Pettigrew turns traitor and becomes a Death Eater.

Trelawney states the 'Prophecy' to Albus Dumbledore. Voldemort gets wind of it and begins to search for its cause. 

Harry Potter, son of James Potter and Lily Evans born on July 31st.

July: Neville Longbottom born. 

Draco Malfoy born. 

March 1: Ron Weasley born.

June: Dudley Dursley born. 

September 19: Hermione Granger is born. 

**1988**

Fidelius charm cast on the Potter Family. They relocate to Godric's Hollow.

Ginny Weasley born.

Lord Voldemort is defeated by the infant Harry Potter on October 31st. 

James and Lily Potter die on October 31st.

November 1st: Peter Pettigrew fakes his death and frames Sirius Black as the traitor to the Potters. Hagrid brings baby Harry to Dumbledore at Privet Drive, who leaves Harry on the doorstep of Number 4. Sirius Black arrested.

The Longbottoms are tortured into insanity using the cruciatus curse.

Sirius Black sent to Azkaban without trial. 

**1992**

Bill Weasley graduates from Hogwarts. 

**1993**

Percy Weasley starts Hogwarts. (Gryffindor)

**1996**

Fred and George Weasley start their first year at Hogwarts. (Gryffindor)

**1998**

Harry Potter starts his first year at Hogwarts. (Gryffindor)

**1999**

The Philosopher's stone incident. Quirrel dies. 

Philosopher's Stone destroyed. 

Ginny Weasley starts her first year at Hogwarts. (Gryffindor)

**2000**

The Chamber of Secrets incident.

Tom Riddle Jr is reborn. Diary is promptly destroyed by Harry Potter.

Salazar Slytherin's Basilisk dies. 

**2001**

Peter Pettigrew is exposed.

Hermione Granger and Harry Potter help Sirius Black escape from Ministry Custody.

International Confederation of Wizards Conference.

Quidditch World Cup.

Triwizard Tournament. – has four champions: Cedric Diggory, Viktor Krum, Fleur Delacour and Harry Potter.

**2002**

Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory win the TriWizard Tournament. 

Lord Voldemort rises again after the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament. 

The Order of the Phoenix is reconvened.

**2003**.

Harry and Voldemort have a duel at Hogwarts. 

Fred and George Weasley graduate from Hogwarts.

Halloween: Lord Voldemort, his Death Eaters, the Ministry of Magic and Angelus, Scourge of Europe attack Hogwarts. Harry Potter disappears. 

TBC…


	9. The Scramble to Save the Hogwarts Expres...

**HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER**

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Summary: Someone casts a nasty spell that catapults Harry to Hogwarts of the past, where his parents are in their sixth year to be exact. Trapped in the past, he must hide the truth of his past, their future and the demanding duties of the slayer. 

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Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Author's notes: I'm so sorry about the delay! Don't kill me! 

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A Reader - Again I apologise and here's the update. 

Ancalyme - 'Fraid I don't know about the name abbreviation thing. But I totally agree with you on the chemistry thing. I hated it too! But I dropped it and now thankfully don't have to do it anymore!

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Ankalagon - Thanks for your comments. I've never read Draco664 or Dzeytoun's stories but I just might give them a go at your recommendation. 

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Atalante - *ducks head* Yeah… really sorry about that wait. Honestly I never mean to let it go so long between updates! Honest! Who is the next serial killer? Well maybe they're not serial killers but as demonstrated by this chapter, they are most definitely dangerous! 

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Athenakitty - Whoa… that's a *lot* of questions. Okay, here come the answers, in order; Yes, he gets a second wand, doesn't want to give the game away after all. Downfalls… yes, he'll most certainly try. Yes Harry met the vampires, yes Harry is now Seth. Giles and Travers? Don't know yet. But I know there will be more Giles! And Harry's motto is prepare for the worst (Because that's what usually happens to him) and hope (however foolishly) for the best! 

Bha79@yahoo.com- Sorry for not giving you the name 'Orome1' but there was another reviewer signed in with the same name so I decided to use your e-mail address to distinguish between you. If that other Orome1 was you, then I apologise and there's another reply further down. Thanks for all your sweet comments! Glad that I could provide you with entertainment. What happens now is somewhat explained in this chapter. Thanks for the remark on this being an original take on the plot line of Harry meeting his parents! 

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Carneol - Thanks for the review! Here's the first meeting you wanted, though it may not be as you have envisioned it…

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Dark-gin - Yeah, I can see what you mean… But Harry has a few adventures to get through before he heads back to present day Hogwarts…. For example, the one occurring in this chapter. 

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Delphine Pryde - Here's what happens next…

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Dreams of Magic - I do plan on finishing this fic! I've got most of it planned out and everything! And as for the whole chapter on the timeline, do you know how hard it is to sort everything out (and to make it actually make some sense) when you drop your character in the past? Without that timeline, I wouldn't have any hair left thanks to me pulling it out! Some of your questions about Seth's schooling answered in this chapter! 

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Erikalya Arvanesse - Hey! That timeline will be important later when things start to overlap and get all confusing! Harry meets Dumbledore this chapter and as for Harry meeting another slayer, good call, he will stumble across one eventually. Here's the update but should I be worried about that 'or else' remark?

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Espigle tueur - Thanks for reviewing! Glad you like the story!

Gryphnwng - You're so right. Dumbledore is so much fun to play with! I updated. Now as promised *you* update. 

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Holy-Demon - Thanks for reviewing! I'm happy you liked the chapter and you're one vote of confidence in my choosing of 'Seth' as a name! Thanks!

Immortal tigerwolf - Here's the update as requested! Along with some Harry/Sev interaction!

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JD678 - Thanks! Here's the update! 

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Jess16 - Thank you for all your reviews! I'm glad you like this fic! 

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Kashke - Thanks for the encouragement! Here's the update! 

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Kitty254781 - *looks puzzled* I thought I explained my timeline. And just for your information there is no conclusive evidence to sway things one way or the other. But if Harry went to school in 1991, how on earth did Dudley have a Sony Playstation that wouldn't come out in Japan until 1996 and 1997/1998 in England? And as the books are not published yearly, the only one who has the answer to this lifelong conundrum is JK Rowling herself. Just go with the flow and to solve problems like this is why I posted by timeline in the first place! 

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Kylie - You're sick! I hope you're better by now! I'm pleased you thought the way Harry did things was logical! And yeah, Bill and Charlie just begged me to be included. Even if only for a short while. 

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Lady Melime - Ooooh, you had some _very_ good observations… I'm glad you thought the chapter was humorous. As for Dumbledore and McGonagall… answered in this chapter. As for houses… sorry, not telling. But as to the Marauders…. Oh boy, that should be interesting. Read on and see what they get up to in this chapter!

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Lady Reaper of the Shadows - Two reviews! Thanks! Here's the next post! 

Lady Shang - Thanks for reviewing! Glad you like all your 'elements'. 

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Linky2 - Three reviews! Thanks so much! Here's the next instalment as requested… 

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Liselle4 - *Blushes* Thanks! A ten or nine and a half, huh? Thanks again! You can get off your knees now though. Hope you enjoy this post. 

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Orome1 - Thanks for the review! The De Lancre family cannot skin Harry alive as 'Seth' is the only member still alive. And the reason Harry is going to Hogwarts is so that he can figure out how to get home, get some payback and get some allies. 

Perfection Unattainable - Thanks! I'm glad you continued reading! Here's the update. 

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Philomena - I seriously hope I am not on your stalking list just yet. Thanks for all the nice things you said about my fic, especially the no mistake part, (I have been known to drive my beta up the wall due to perfectionist tendencies). As its my fault that you got hooked here's your next dose…

Queen of Vegetasei - Hey! 'you updated. The apocalypse has arrived.' Not fair! *bangs head against table* You know there was a reason behind posting that timeline, along with all the relevant explanations to go with it, don't you? See above to Kitty254781's review for all explanations regarding timelines. Your visual on Dumbledore and Voldie is nightmare inducing, you do realise that? *shudders* And by the way, he didn't acquire everything in one day, re-read, I specifically state it takes him several days. If still unsure, check updated timeline under August 1984. All looks are dealt with in this chapter! Yes, I'm sorry for not updating sooner. *hangs head and looks very apologetic* The interview with Dumbledore is in this chapter. And yes there's more Sev. 

Rei - Glad to know I made your day! Here's the next instalment! 

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Rogue1615 - Thanks! Glad you like my portrayal of the wizarding world! Power bases… I know what you mean. Just think of the possibilities! 

RuinedEmperor - Thanks! The wow factor is always cool. As to what 'Seth' is gonna do, wait and see. And as to the prophecy, it's another thing I can't give away just yet. 

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Seer_Cassandra - Hi beta girl! Thanks for reviewing! Glad you liked the goblins and Lorne!

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Serilia the Warped - Thanks for the review! And thanks to Queen of Vegetasei for directing you to my fic. And in answer to your questions, in order: (1) Yes, they will meet each other. After reading this chapter you'll see how it's pretty much unavoidable. (2) The slash will be up to you dear readers. When it gets time to start a relationship or not, it will be put to a reader's vote. Details will be given then. (3) How astute of you. But by Trelawney, no. Though it does involve her in some ways…. (4) Albus Dumbledore dying is not set in concrete yet. As it probably will not happen, if it does happen, until Harry gets back to his own time, I have plenty of time to make up my mind, considering a substantial amount of this fic is set in the Marauder era. That it's a possibility is the best answer I can give you. (5) As of now. Thanks for your comments on my fic and my take on Harry. Hope this chapter satisfies. 

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Shakiya - Two reviews! Thanks! Glad you like the fic! 

Talon - HP/SS pairing yes. But we're still only getting there. They haven't even met yet. 

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Tempest8 - Sirius won't even get the *chance* to grovel for quite a while… at least not *adult* Sirius… 

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TJ - Gee thanks! For both reviews. I'm glad you appreciate the need to build a plot first and you were *supposed* to be on the edge of your seat. Well at least you liked the last chapter, hope this one meets the same response. 

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Wolf Lupin - Ah, at last… someone who understands that cliffhangers are not *always* evil….

And thanks to everyone else who reviewed!!

Anne

Annon 

Anon

BlackDiva

buh

h-k

Jax9 

Kenny

Speaker

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CHAPTER EIGHT: THE SCRAMBLE TO SAVE THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS

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Genius may have its limitations, but stupidity is not thus handicapped. --Elbert Hubbard

Harry eyed his wild, spiky crop of hair mournfully. Going to the Ministry of Magic looking like he did wasn't a problem, going to Hogwarts with this appearance was a major one. The Ministry would have flayed him alive if he'd worn disguising charms or showed any evidence of attempting to change his appearance so he'd left things as they were. But Hogwarts was a different story entirely. How many times had he been told he looked like his father? How many times had people commented on 'Lily's eyes'? Something had to be done. And he wasn't sure he really wanted to do it.

He *liked* his wild mop of hair, it added to the whole mostly-black wardrobed dangerous character which helped him with his pre-destined job. He was the first to admit that at first sight, he wasn't the most intimidating of characters and he certainly wasn't tall enough to intimidate anybody. All he could do was blame the Dursleys for that one. 

But still, he couldn't run the risk of being compared with James Potter. And so it came to this.

Raising his wand, he lengthened his jet black hair by about three inches and used a spell to put it into loose curls, or more precisely loose ringlets. They were short enough, manageable, looked cool in a faintly Antonio Banderas 'Mask of Zorro' way and tamed his hair. His skin tone, he didn't need to change; he was naturally pale and his new nocturnal habits had only emphasised that attribute. He couldn't do much about his bone structure, though from pictures Harry knew that he'd inherited a mix of both parents when it came to facial structure. Before it was just hid under his untameable hair and large, round, thick-framed glasses. 

His smaller, more lithe frame should help his deception as well. By looking up his photo album, he knew that sixteen year old James Potter should tower over him by about half a head and would grow and bring that up to about half a foot due to his 6' 2" frame by the time baby Harry would be born. 

Harry refused point black to mess with his eyes, he'd already done that when he'd fixed his vision and he really liked their emerald green colour. So no matter the risk, they stayed. 

The next problem was a more serious one; his rather unusual scar. There was only so much spells could do and from experience, he knew Muggle camouflaging make up wouldn't help much either. The spells all too often didn't work, didn't last long or were shattered into oblivion when he had a vision or when his scar acted up. Muggle make up had much the same problems; it could be wiped off easily, left traces on his clothing and wasn't up to lasting for more than a couple of hours. So what could he do? 

His longer fringe would help but it wouldn't stay in the one place forever and it wouldn't stop sharper eyes from noticing. And then after a while, all it would take is one stray disobliging breeze and there went any hope of hiding it. And he *had* to hide it. That scar went side by side with 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' and that was one title he'd happily get rid of. All it had ever caused him was hassle. 

There was only one solution and by Merlin did he hate it! It had to be a potion, one specifically to hide scars given by Dark Magic. In theory, it didn't sound so bad. At least until one looked further. It was a blood-based potion and Merlin knew he hated bloodletting, more specifically his own. Voldemort had made him feel like a personal pincushion on occasion. Still, the benefits were undeniable. It would hide the scar until he chose to take the counter-potion but it was highly illegal Dark Magic. Privately Harry thought it had been outlawed only because it forced the aurors to have to work harder finding 'dark' wizards and witches. It could mean time in Azkaban if he was caught. 

But then again, was he a slayer or not? And a second-generation Marauder, however disowned he may be? And he was stuck, he had no choice. He had to meet with Dumbledore soon and there was no way he was going to reveal anything about himself to that scheming trickster! As it was, it would take all the willpower he had not to blast him to the seventh hell and let the headmaster get personally acquainted with a few of the more… _nasty _demons that lived there. 

Sighing, he gathered the necessary ingredients. He'd have to risk it. He had no other choice. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

"Do you see now? Do you understand?" asked a low sibilant voice, slicing through the darkness of the room. 

The other finally relented, "Okay fine. You win. Now what do you want?"

"Oh it's nothing much," the sibilant voice answered, "Just a small little favour…"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

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"The dumber people think you are, the more surprised they'll be when you kill them."

Harry thoughtfully looked in the mirror, wondering how he was going to play this. He needed Dumbledore to not be suspicious of him, at least not yet. Sooner or later, no doubt, his likeness to Tom Riddle in terms of power and colouring would occur to him and he'd be watched like a hawk but for now, he needed to fool the old man into thinking he was weak and harmless. 

And as much as he loathed to admit it, to do that he needed to act like a Hufflepuff. 

Or more precisely a naïve Hufflepuff with only average brain capacity. 

This was either going to be immensely trying and annoying or immensely fun. 

And if he had his way it was going to be _fun_.

Harry smirked, he might not be able to seriously harm Dumbledore in the past but he was most definitely going to give him hell, without getting caught of course.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Harry had more than one reason for saying he'd lived in the Americas. The magic quill at Hogwarts had been a major flaw in his plans until he'd thought of a way around it. The quill had been charmed since the Founder's time to detect the birth of a magical child, be it pureblood, halfblood or muggleborn and it wrote their name down in a large, enchanted to be everlasting book. Every year the deputy headmaster or headmistress would check the book and would send out owls to all those of age to attend that year. Thankfully though, that book only covered the United Kingdom, Ireland and the rest of the British Isles. Beauxbatons enrolled the wizards and witches from mainland Europe and Durmstrang enrolled those from Eastern Europe. 

It was an arrangement that worked well and was long-standing. If a child born outside the area where the school's magic quill would record them wanted to go to that school then their parents would have to personally enrol them there. And that was what Harry or more precisely 'Seth' was betting on. With his 'parents' dead and having lived in the Americas then 'Seth' wouldn't be on the Hogwarts records and so his request to the headmaster would not only be perfectly reasonable, it would be perfectly normal. His only worry would be if Dumbledore asked why he hadn't chosen Beauxbatons and if he did… well, he had an answer ready. 

Squaring his shoulders and putting on an appropriately cheerful smile befitting what he wanted to portray, he apparated to the Shrieking Shack. Since a sixteen year old wasn't supposed to be able (or legally allowed) to apparate, it was best he do it where no one would see him. Having purchased the best racing broom available at this time - sadly, it was nowhere near the capabilities of a Firebolt or even a comet two-sixty - called the Nimbus 150, he had decided to fly to Hogwarts from Hogsmeade. 

After spending the several minutes of the flight thinking of ways to improve the broom, he was seriously considering a career in broom development. This Nimbus was so *slow*! It's turning speed was laughable and with him being so used to the Firebolt's superior speed and braking, if he tried a Wronksi Feint he'd probably plough into the ground. Realistically he knew that the Nimbus was a international Quidditch standard broom at the present time but the flying fanatic inside of him was busy bemoaning about his chances to get on a Quidditch team. 

All too soon he was at Hogwarts front doors and since it would appear rude to bring the broom in with him, he left it outside the entrance hall, where Filch couldn't get at it. He had half expected Professor McGonagall to meet him there but instead it was a teacher he didn't recognise. She was probably in her late 40's, fairly tall, with brown hair shot through with silver, cold eyes and face set in a stern expression. Her pointed hat and robes were in impeccable condition and she didn't look like someone you'd want to cross. "Mr De Lancre I presume?" she said somewhat haughtily and crossly, as if she really didn't want to be on escort duty. 

He nodded in reply and flashed her a - in his opinion- nauseatingly bright smile. She seemed to share his opinion as he heard her mutter something non-complimentary under her breath. Deciding to cement her rather unflattering observations, he began to speak. "How nice to meet you!" he said cheerfully, "You must be a professor here. I cannot tell you how much I'm looking forward to all the classes! I hear Hogwarts is a simply splendid place to learn! I always wanted to go here you know but my guardian wasn't too keen. She was a bit old-fashioned, bless her heart. The poor mite's met her maker now. May her soul rest in peace. But she was such a--"

"For goodness sake stop your babbling!" the woman interrupted sharply, "I have no wish to hear your life story. My name is Professor Wells and I ---"

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed fake delightedly, "What do you teach professor?! My goodness, this is such an honour! I never imagined I would get to--"

"De Lancre!" she reprimanded, "The headmaster is waiting! Contrary to popular opinion, I do not have all day!" 

Biting his cheek to hide his smirk he followed her obediently. She led him to the statue guarding the headmaster's office and barked out the password, "Mint mothballs!" and gestured for Harry to ascend the stairs, "Go on up De Lancre, the headmaster will deal with you there." And with that she swept off. Shaking his head, he stepped onto the moving staircase and soon found himself in front of the headmaster's door. This was it. No turning back now. He hoped he hadn't just made a big mistake.

~*~*~*~*~*~***~*~*~*~*~***

Plastering another silly smile onto his face, he knocked on the door and heard the headmaster tell him to come in. Stepping into the room he found Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall looking at him. They really hadn't changed much though the McGonagall of his time had more grey hairs. "Ah welcome Mr De Lancre, do sit down." Dumbledore said. 

Harry complied, resisting the urge to curse Dumbledore into the next ice age and managed to convincingly say, "Please call me Seth headmaster."

"As you wish Seth." the headmaster said amiably, "This is the deputy headmistress and head of Gryffindor House, professor McGonagall." Harry nodded a greeting to her and turned back to Dumbledore when he began speaking. "Lemon drop Seth?" he asked, holding one of the proffered sweets. 

Harry eyed it with well-concealed distaste, he'd been down this road before. And had learned too late the reason that Snape, Sirius and professor Lupin had avoided them as much as possible. Dumbledore, the wily old coot, oh so covertly laced the lemon drops with veritaserum to help him 'coax' information out of others. But if he didn't take the sweet, he'd be eyed suspiciously. Oh the things he was forced to put up with…

"Thank you headmaster," he said, taking the sweet and with a move that would have made any trickster proud, he replaced the tainted lemon drop in his hand with a harmless one, all before it went into his mouth. The headmaster smiled that benign, grandfatherly smile that made Harry want to punch him before looking at some transcripts on his desk. "Well Seth, I've looked over your records and only have a few questions to ask. First of all, I have to say that I can see from your explanation of events why you would want to come to Hogwarts but as you're planning to enter at NEWT-level, I need to know your OWL results so you can be placed appropriately." 

That had been another spanner in the works when Harry had been planning everything. He wanted to get into several classes that had strict criteria when it came to OWL results. Most requiring an 'Outstanding' or at the very least an 'Exceeds Expectations' grade. Which kind of scuppered his 'play an idiot' plan. Still, what could he do? He'd just had to get creative with his excuses. 

Handing the small slip of parchment with the OWLs results on it over to Dumbledore, he shrugged sheepishly. "I've been told they're quite good but they're probably not an accurate reflection of what I can do. My guardian was teaching me since I was little but I've always been a little klutz with a wand. I used to drive her crazy."

"Well I'm sure that won't be a problem." Dumbledore said, "And these really are quite good. But back to practical matters. You will have to be Sorted of course. Professor McGonagall will call you up after the first years."

Allowing a hint of nervousness to become visible on his face, Harry asked, "What do you mean by Sorted?"

"The Sorting tells us which house you will be put into. There are four: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

"And how is that determined sir?"

Dumbledore's lips twitched, "As the older years say, you have to fight a troll. But don't worry I'm sure you'll do fine." It seemed even the teachers didn't like to reveal much about the Sorting Hat before you were in one house or another. "Naturally you will come here on the Hogwarts Express with the other students. But our soon to be sixth years have already picked their subjects, owling us with their results and requested classes. But as you are here, Professor McGonagall will help you pick your classes. I'm sure you have given it some consideration already?"

"Of course sir." Harry replied, "Though I'm still rather unsure of a choice of career."

"Ah yes, well I'm sure your time here will help you with that. Now go with Professor McGonagall and we look forward to seeing you again on September 1st."

"Goodbye headmaster." 

Dumbledore looked at the just closed door. Another gullible child to add to the hordes he already had. If he was clumsy as he claimed then it was a pity. He had so many of them too. Still, the child was unlikely to cause trouble, he was most likely a Hufflepuff like his mother or a Ravenclaw like his father. Oh well… Looking down at the sheaf of parchments on his desk, his face hardened. Voldemort was gaining power too quickly. If only he could find one powerful enough to challenge the self-proclaimed Dark Lord without seeking that power for themselves. If only…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Professor McGonagall explained things very thoroughly. His potential classes went like this: Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, and Herbology were the core classes at NEWT level. After them, you could pick six classes to supplement them, which were: - Battle and Defensive magic, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Warding classes, Medi-healing, Care of Magical Creatures, History of Magic, Wandless Self-Defence, Magical Theory, Animagus classes (7th years only), and Duelling class. Things were different in this time, so the NEWT and OWLs were different, with the Ministry forcing the students to do as many courses as possible in an attempt to keep them alive and provide a fresh supply of half-trained aurors. Far too many Hogwarts graduates died once they left the castle. The war was taking a heavy toll on everybody. 

"With the amount of times I end up in the Hospital Wing or otherwise get injured, I think that Medi-healer training would be of benefit." he said, casually flicking through the course prospectus, only half aware he was speaking aloud.

"And why do you end up in the hospital wing often?" McGonagall asked, as curious as the tales told about her animagus form.

Harry was startled and scrambled for a plausible answer. "Well, as I said, I'm very clumsy. I must have tripped or fallen more times than I could possibly count." Luckily for him, she seemed to believe his answer and he breathed easy again. That had been careless and until he was Sorted and settled in, caution was the thing needed. 

"Well Mr De Lancre have you decided on your courses?" 

Harry nodded, a stray curl falling into his eye. He pushed it away irritably and handed her the parchment containing his choices. She scanned them for a moment before looking at him again, "Thinking of auror training De Lancre?" she asked.

"It's a possibility," he admitted, "But it can't hurt to be prepared with the way things are now," he said, referring to the ongoing and ever-escalating war. Harry's choices, in his opinion anyway, were fairly sound, choosing courses that had never been even heard of at the Hogwarts of his time. Obviously the Ministry hadn't yet seen fit to reinstate them. You had the mandatory classes: Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, and Herbology, all of which he had gotten grades good enough to enter, and then there were the six optional classes that he had chosen; Battle and Defensive magic, Warding classes, Medi-healing, Wandless Self-Defence, Magical Theory, and Duelling class.

McGonagall recorded his choices and told him he would receive his timetable the morning after his Sorting. She then handed him a list of books and equipment he would need:

__

Books required:

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6 by Miranda Goshawk

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

Duelling: The Auror's Guide by Alastor Moody

Battle Magic: The Auror's Guide by Alastor Moody

Defensive Magic: A Beginner's Guide by Nikolai Folohov

Guide to Advanced NEWT level Transfiguration 

Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration 

Magical Drafts and Potions; NEWT level by Arsenius Jigger 

Most Potente Potions

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore 

Charms: NEWT Level by Sybil Boltstone. 

Sites of Historical Sorcery 

Advanced Level Magical Theory by Medea Sardar

Healing: An Apprentice's Guide by Rebecca Pysche.

__

Equipment required: 

Two sets of battle robes.

Three sets of Muggle clothing. (Must be easy to move around in and appropriate for fighting.)

One pewter cauldron. Standard size.

One set of crystal phials.

One set of brass scales. 

Full NEWT level standard set of potions ingredients. Available from the apothecary in Diagon Alley on request. 

Mortar and pestle. 

One warding stone. (Of personal choice.)

"You may of course bring a pet and a broom." McGonagall said. "Do you play Quidditch?" 

"A little."

"Well then, you might want to try out for one of the House teams so it would be advisable to bring your own broom with you. And that would be all we have to discuss. You know where to meet the train?"

"Yes, at platform 9 ¾."

"Well then you'd best be off," McGonagall said, standing up. "Do you know the way out."

"Yes, thank you Professor."

"Good day Mr De Lancre." she said as she left. Harry took his time wandering back to the front doors, where he could collect his broom and go back to his temporary home, satisfied that for now, he'd fooled them all. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

In his vast country estate, heavily warded, impregnable and unplottable, the wizard called Lord Voldemort sat in contemplation, drumming his long fingers on an old tome in his lap. He had recently come across some rather interesting information. One that could change the outcome of the war he was waging against the fools who would oppose him. 

Knowledge had come to him unexpectedly, confirming suspicions he had hidden deep inside him, behind his assurance that his position was all but unassailable. His power strengthened with every passing moment, his reach extended with every day and soon his enemies would topple before him and he would have the world at his feet. It was certain. But cracks were developing in his plans and measures must be taken to compensate for them. He wasn't going to lose. 

Lord Voldemort didn't like to admit defeat in anything. He loathed even the possibility of it. And so, the news he had received was most… distressing.

He would rather not have heard the existence of an heir of his forbearer's bane, and most certainly could have done without such a spanner in the works. 

If there was anything that could pose a threat, it would be that. Dumbledore was an ageing old fool, waning in power but to give him a tool of such magnitude would be unforgivable. 

And dangerous. He didn't doubt that if he knew, the old fool would know soon. And that meant any precautions taken had to be taken fast. 

He was stronger than Salazar Slytherin, he knew it, and he would not make the same mistakes as the disgraced founder of Hogwarts had done. 

His opponent, perhaps the only one worthy enough to call themselves Voldemort's challenger. (If they grew a hundred times more powerful and studied for the next century, he scoffed amusedly.) And it was fitting that it should come to this. 

Still, they were foolish, impressionable, malleable. They could be turned to his favour and to have them as his servants would be one of life's greatest ironies. One would be dealt with, too stubborn and principled too live, too entrenched in Dumbledore's service, but the other could go on to become one of his greatest generals.

And if the one he had chosen to live failed to comply with his rather reasonable demands… well, he would just have to finish what had begun a thousand years ago. 

And kill them all. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

The night before Harry was to go to Kings Cross, after packing his trunk, he flopped back onto the soft surface of his bed, heavy thoughts and weighty decisions occupying his mind. His kneazle, whom he'd decided to call Veda after some character in a book he'd read, was sprawled across his comfortable stuffed armchair about four feet away, sleeping soundly. 

He really was getting sick of all the problems his little surprise time-travel kept hitting him with. Tomorrow, he would return to Hogwarts, get Sorted *again*, resist the urge to kill Dumbledore, come face to face with his parents and the rest of the Marauders and try to learn all of the political alliances running through the student body. It should only take him the rest of the entire *year*!

He knew that he couldn't afford to become a player in the war that was splitting the wizarding world apart. He would get back to his time eventually and he couldn't afford to leave anybody in the lurch nor could he afford to let himself be killed while Voldemort was having a free reign in his time. Silent behind the scenes work was the only option available to him.

But he was going to attract attention thanks to his 'new student' status and so curiosity would abound. Harry really couldn't afford to have his story ripped to shreds, or worse, have Voldemort get wind of anything that would lead him to develop an interest in 'Seth'. Harry had many secrets and he guarded them well. He knew exactly how to behave as people expected him to and he had no qualms about doing it when it suited him, it saved him a lot of hassle in the long run. Everything was so much easier when people underestimated you. But that was at home, now he was up to his neck in treacherous waters and if he wasn't careful, there was a high chance he was going to drown. 

And that's why he'd have to be extra careful and keep a close watch on Dumbledore. He might not be able to kill the two thorns in his side that had influenced or manipulated nearly everything in his life one way or the other. And he'd be damned if he let them do that here. But at the same time he was intensely curious about how they'd achieved so much in this timeline. If he played his cards right, he could very subtly and covertly, screw with their heads by trying to influence some of their key players. And if he had them down right, that meant his parents, Sirius, Malfoy, Snape and quite a few others who would go on to be in either Dumbledore's or Voldemort's inner circles or the Ministry's upper echelons. 

Harry knew that it was so much easier to manipulate people when they trusted you, thought that you were harmless and wouldn't hurt anyone. Hell, he'd seen how it worked for Dumbledore and he wanted that ability too. Here in the past, he didn't have to contend with his famous scar, his reputation or the expectation that he would either defeat or help the Dark Lord. He had no past here, instead he was a clean sheet and he could make people believe what they wanted too. If everything went according to plan, they wouldn't know how dangerous he was until it was too late.

Satisfied with his plans, he tucked himself under the covers and went to sleep. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

After an - in his opinion - all too short sleep, Harry dragged himself out of bed, and still rather drowsy he apparated into London and hailed a taxi to take him to Kings Cross Station. The driver gave him a weird look when he saw Veda, who was probably the strangest cat he'd ever seen before. Harry really couldn't dredge up enough energy to care what the muggle thought. 

Passing a coffee shop on the way, Harry ordered the driver to stop, "Caffeine," Harry grumbled, "I am in desperate need of it. Back in a second."

Returning to the taxi with a large Styrofoam cup of rich smelling coffee, he sipped it gratefully as the car wove its way through the busy streets of London, enjoying the way his body seemed to wake up.

Kings Cross was packed when he got there, and he could see plenty of people with trunks trying to make their way through the crowds of muggles. Pushing his own magically lightened trunk on a trolley, he casually stepped through the barrier to platform 9 and ¾. When he was on the other side, he had to stop himself from doing a doubletake. There were so many students! And combined with the frazzled parents, the hyper students, mischievous siblings and all the luggage and pets, it was like a crowded travelling circus. Obviously, Harry construed, the enrolment in this time was way up, most likely due to the fact that the war had yet to take the lives of much of this generation. For now.

Having sensitive hearing was more of a handicap in this environment what with all the noise and bustle, and more than once he had to slam his mouth shut before he gave someone a tongue lashing for bumping into him with trunks, owls or various body parts. And Veda was hissing his displeasure at those who had interrupted his preening session. He made his way towards the train, hoping to find an empty carriage. After all, if he found one he could pretty much glare everyone else who came in into making an abrupt about turn. 

A stray leg nearly tripped him up and he quickly dodged it only to have an unexpected collision. Harry groaned as he smacked into an unforgiving wall of Slytherin - Snape by the looks of it. And by Merlin did the greasy git look different! 

Snape was as tall as he was in Harry's time, with an aloof expression and a shiny prefect's badge pinned near the Slytherin crest on his uniform. His hair was surprisingly not greasy at all, and fell to his shoulders like a silky jet black curtain. Sharp black eyes glared at him from a pale, but not sallow face and white teeth instead of yellow were bared in displeasure. Snape stared at him coolly for a moment before snapping, "Watch where you're going!" and hurrying off. Well, at least some things remained the same, Harry mused. At least Snape's personality didn't seem altogether different; brisk, cold, rude and arrogant. But if Snape had looked quite decent, okay slightly more than decent, as a teenager why had he let himself become the Greasy Git of the Hogwarts' staff? It boggled the mind. 

Boarding the train, he worked his way through the carriages, finding them all full. He only lingered at two for longer than necessary, blending into the shadows for a few moments to observe without being seen himself. He found his father, laughing and chatting with the rest of the Marauders in one carriage near the back. Remus looked much younger and less tired, and his hair had yet to develop the heavy streaks of grey he had acquired in Harry's time. Sirius was there also, young and robust, the strain of Azkaban not yet having taken its toll on him. And then there was Pettigrew, Harry had to suppress a growl at the sight of him; small, mousy and trying desperately to look like he fitted in with the other more popular boys. 

He didn't stay long enough to hear much of their conversation, wary about being caught spying but he quickly summed up one thing. It seemed his father; along with Sirius was the current Gryffindor Golden Boy. Well, that was a title he was welcome to in Harry's opinion. It was easy to connect the confident, arrogant boy in front of him with the James Potter from Snape's pensieve. Harry could only hope that his father - and Sirius - would mellow a bit before Harry left. He really didn't like to see his father acting like a jerk. Snape may not be a very nice person to get along with but he had proven himself where it counted by acting as a spy, even if it was for Dumbledore and he'd helped Harry even though they hated each other. 

The other carriage that made him pause contained only one other person but again Harry found himself in a position where he couldn't stay, however much he may have wanted to. A petite girl with blazing red hair and eyes to match his own sat with her head buried in an advanced charms book; Lily Evans, hid future mother. 

She wore a prefect's badge and seemed utterly absorbed in the text so Harry took the opportunity to study her unawares, looking for similarities between them. All he had ever heard about since he started Hogwarts was how like James he was, how he looked so much like his father. The only thing he had ever heard about his mother in relation to his looks or personality was that he had 'Lily's eyes' as so very often quoted. He had to admit they were right. She was obviously enjoying her read, her eyes lit up in pleasure. Unnatural green eyes blazing.... he shuddered, Avada Kedavra green eyes... Now he knew why some people refused to look him in the eye at times. 

He figured that he also had Lily to thank for much of his build. Harry took in Lily's fairly petite frame and bone structure. Strike out the malnutrition theory, he now had the 'I-got-it-from-my-mother' theory to replace it. Hearing footsteps behind him, he tore himself away from his study of Lily and hurriedly moved on before he was caught even before the games began. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Severus hurried away from the scene of his collision, already late and chastising himself for not watching where he was going. Although as he walked, his mind informed him that he didn't know the boy who he'd slammed into but yet the boy had been pushing a Hogwarts' trunk. It must be a new student, something of a rarity. He idly wondered what house he'd get into, and judging him by his slack-jawed expression after their crash, he guessed Hufflepuff. What joy. 

But there had been something strange about the boy. He was only of average height, with dark hair and green eyes…. Green eyes… now he knew why the boy had been bothering him, he had the same eyes as Lily…

But that didn't matter. The boy hadn't spoken so he couldn't judge his accent and though the muggle clothing he wore was well-fitting and looked to be of good quality, Severus judged the boy as either an idiot or a muggleborn for flaunting muggle ideals in the time of the rise of the Dark Lord, who hated muggles and muggleborns so much, he had more than half a mind to exterminate them. Such a person was not worth Severus's time, not when he was trying to save his own hide from his father's pureblood fanaticism and the Dark Lord's grasp. 

But still, there was something strange about the boy. Something that his instincts were telling him about him but that he didn't have the knowledge or insight to pinpoint. Without knowing what it was, all he could tell was that there was a great sense of wariness by instincts that had never before failed him. There was a feeling there, something kindred but he just couldn't place it. He felt that the boy might prove dangerous but couldn't see how he would be a threat to him, Severus was more than capable of taking care of himself. And for that he had his mother to thank.

Entering his habitual carriage he found himself being observed by a slightly annoyed gaze, stormy green depths reprimanding him fondly. "Late again Sev?" Lily teased, "I will never understand how you manage to be consistently late every year running."

"Yes, well it could not be helped," Severus explained briskly, "My father decided to have a another little 'chat' with me. It was not pleasant, nor was it quick."

Lily's lighthearted expression sobered, "The test?" she asked quietly.

Severus couldn't lie to her, his closest friend, "I'm afraid so. I have to do it this year. My father was pushing for it to be this summer but I said it wouldn't be wise to go to Hogwarts wearing the Mark. I don't want to do it. Since his rise, my father is eager to secure his position by handing his Heir over to the Dark Lord." 

There was silence for a moment, Lily understood what the test was. Indeed, she knew far too much than what was healthy. Voldemort required obedience from his followers and wished to assure himself of their continued fidelity and devotion. And so each child of the Inner Circle had to go through a test of loyalty. Namely helping in a Death Eater raid or something else as Voldemort himself decided. Privately, Severus was afraid that his father would take this as an opportunity to rid himself of one of the main points of argument between himself and his son; namely Severus's close friendship with Lily Evans, a muggleborn. 

No matter how talented she was, nor how smart. To his father and most of the other purebloods, she was and would ever be inferior. And Severus knew he wouldn't be able to kill her. Slytherin ambition he had, but he did not have the bloodthirsty streak that his father possessed. 

But Lily, sweet Lily, was on her way to being Head Girl. And that wouldn't go down well with those that hated her for the circumstances of her birth. If he wasn't giving the task to kill her, then someone else would. He had to be prepared for that eventuality. Even if it meant secreting her away. His mind shied away from the thought of exactly how hard it would be to convince Lily to run. But there would no other way if it came down to that, the Dark Lord's influence was too strong. The Ministry wouldn't protect her and Dumbledore didn't have the strength nor would he bother with the life of one mere student, who in his eyes held no importance. To him, Lily's death would be inconsequential. 

Not so for Severus. And so he had to do his best to protect her from the shadows. It would do her no good to tell her that there was a target being drawn on her back. 

Her voice interrupted his thoughts, "Any word on the Potions Mastery exams?"

Severus shook his head, "I think I can take the test some time this year but I haven't received any confirmation as of yet. But as I told you I'm to be Professor Ruppe's assistant this year as well and hopefully he can speed things up."

"I hear it's supposed to be brutal," Lily said, putting her book aside for the moment, "But what exactly is on it?"

Severus smiled, that was Lily; ever curious. Launching into an explanation, he quickly warmed to his topic and only paused when a spectacularly bad piece of luck, at least in their opinion, occurred. 

Two groans sounded through the compartment as Penelope Parkinson's grating voice was heard heading towards them. Lily promptly decided to bury herself in her charms text and plastered an expression of indifference on her face. Severus, not having anything to play distracted with, glared at her. "Traitor!" he hissed. 

She flashed him an innocent smile, "It's not my fault she's decided on you to be her future husband!" she teased, "You're the one she's crushing on. You get rid of her."

Severus just glared. What could he say to that? 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

James's father had personally dropped him off at Kings Cross, taking the opportunity to spend time with his only son, something that happened quite rarely nowadays. Henry Potter was head of the Unspeakables and with the war escalating, he seldom had any time to spare. And more often than not when he did, he was fretting about some mission or other or some troubling intelligence or something else of the like. So that was why James had been overjoyed to see his father take some time off for him. 

That was the main reason why James was in a rather exuberant mood on the day he returned to school. He'd met up with Siri, Remy and Pete and caught up on their latest news. Something about Siri worried him though. Siri was upset and trying to hide it. Siri was more of a brother to James than a friend and he could read him better than any of the other Marauders. Something big was bothering him and James would bet his fortune that it had something to do with that old hag Siri was forced to call mother. 

James knew all about the Black family and its views. 'Toujours Pur' was the family motto and the fact that Sirius wasn't a perfect little junior Death Eater like his younger by a year brother, Regulus was a point of contention for his rather pureblood obsessed family. James also knew that about six or seven years ago, Sirius's only decent cousin Andromeda had been disowned for marrying a muggleborn by the name of Tonks. Sirius had hardly seen her since and he knew that he wasn't too far from being disowned himself. 

The only reason they somewhat tolerated Siri's placement in Gryffindor and his tendency towards the light side was that they felt they could reform him and Sirius was the heir to the Black estates and that was something they wouldn't change until it was absolutely necessary. Regulus Black was not known for having a cool head on his shoulders or for being any way sensible and the Black matriarch would not be keen to let him obtain the family holdings. 

James couldn't ask him about it now; Siri had never told Remy or Peter much about his family so he would have to wait until they got to Hogwarts and he could drag him off somewhere quite and get him to spill the beans. Until then though, Padfoot could use some cheering up and he knew one sure-fire way to do it. A spot of Snivellus-baiting always went down well…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Penelope didn't stay long after the Marauders showed up, not wanting to get involved in the little war they had started between Severus and themselves, and inadvertently Lily. When the Marauders took up arms, nobody with half a brain wanted to be caught in the crossfire. 

James's hackles had raised when he saw his current crush laughing and joking with *Snivellus* of all people, when he James Potter, Quidditch player extraordinaire got nothing more than scorn! That wasn't supposed to happen. Ever. 

Besides James's father had warned him that dear old Snivellus was heading for Death Eaterhood. Just like most of the other Slytherins. And so, in James's opinion, if Slimy Severus hadn't been cruising for a bruising before, he most certainly was now. And under _no _circumstances could he be allowed anywhere near James's girl! The red-haired vixen of Ravenclaw was going to be _his _girlfriend. Snape was _not_ going to ruin things for him! 

Sirius, who had always hated his family and their friends, had hated Snape since their first day at Hogwarts, when the Slytherin had demonstrated some of the same dark curses that Sirius's family had tried to drill into him. To Snape, Sirius was a traitor and disappointment to his family and to Sirius, Snape was just another wannabe Death Eater to exterminate. 

Needless to say that Sirius Black was not going to protest if James decided to have some fun tormenting the Slytherin. Peter would never say anything against the other three Marauders, who were much stronger and more talented than him and Remus wouldn't object either, the Werewolf in him secretly enjoying the thrill of cornering prey. 

Ergo, no matter what he did, Severus was not going to avoid trouble easily this time. 

Sirius and James lounged on either side of the door jamb, Remus and Peter behind them. 

"What in Merlin's name are you doing here?!" Severus snapped in a characteristically annoyed tone. 

"Making your life difficult. As per usual." Sirius answered, moving away from the door and entering the carriage. 

"After all we should be entitled to keep an eye on all Death Eater wannabes, eh Snivellus?" James sneered.

Snape bristled at the hated nickname, "Is this Potter the Prefect speaking or Potter the Perpetual Thorn in My Side?" Severus replied drolly. 

James made to deliver some sort of scathing retort but Lily's clearly displeased voice cut through what was promising to be a fine old sneering match. "Can't any of you behave like 6th years instead of 6 year olds?" she admonished, "I do not wish to have to sit through another testosterone fuelled hexing match!"

Sirius smirked, "I don't think Snape would have the guts to take us all on Evans. He can't run home to daddy at Hogwarts."

Snape stood, rising to his full height, "At least _I_ am not close to being disowned for behaving more like your whore of a cousin than a Black!" he hissed nastily, his hatred of Sirius fuelling his cruel comments. Still sitting, Lily glared at him. 

The insult was delivered with such nonchalance that it took a few moments for Sirius to process it. When he did, his face turned red and his vicious temper reared its head. "How dare you?!" he hissed and James winced and took a step back, sensing a renowned Black temper tantrum on the way. Sirius *really* liked Andromeda, mostly for standing up to her family and following her convictions and Sirius didn't tolerate any slight on her. "You, the little lapdog for the Dark Lord! Hell, your father killed your monster of a mother." 

Snape's eyes hardened into chips of black ice, "Oh, have I hit a nerve Snivellus? Tell me, how many have you killed, you spawn of an earthworm? You dare to mock _me_ when you're kissing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's robe? At least I have dignity. And some little thing called morals!" 

"At least I'm not running," Severus replied, "And considering what your dear mother has planned for _you_ I wouldn't be mocking anyone. Unless you are a bigger idiot than I thought you were, you must have heard of your impending presentation?" He smiled darkly, "You know which one I'm talking about don't you Black? The one your darling little brother wants so very much? You really shouldn't be alienating your fellows in that case should you Black?" Behind him Lily gasped in shocked realisation and he noted that Lupin and Potter weren't too far behind her. He took in Sirius's pale face and shocked expression, "Oh what you didn't know? What a pity." 

Severus imperiously arched an eyebrow as the boy spluttered in shock, "You - you, you...." 

"Yes? Are you planning on finishing that sentence sometime today? Or perhaps you've lost what little remained of your brain cells during the last hour?"

The other Marauders started to give out to him while Lily tried to disarm the increasingly troubled situation but Sirius didn't bother with talk. He whipped out his wand and started trying to hex Severus. Sev threw up a shield for the first few but Sirius just increased the power of his little arsenal of spells. All those lessons in the old Black Magicks had paid off. Potter tried to stop him at first but a stray curse from Severus's retaliation barrage hit him and soon all four Marauders were in on the fight. 

Out numbered two to one, Severus grabbed Lily, ignoring Potter's enraged bellow and hauled her with him through the door as one of his obscuring spells temporarily distracted the four Gryffindors. Running into the next carriage, they slammed the door shut behind them, frantically thinking of how to get out of the mess they were in. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Harry lifted his head from where it had been pillowed on his arms, "Huh?" he asked drowsily as he heard the sounds of heated conversation nearby. He snapped into slayer mode as the door was thrown open and two people ran in, the door slamming forcefully behind them. They didn't notice him at first, too occupied with watching the door and casting binding spells as somebody started hammering on it. 

Keeping his eyes closed to give the intruders the illusion of harmlessness, he reached out with his senses and analysed what they told him. The duo had definitely ticked off someone, he assessed by the efforts to get into the room. That level of violence was weird on the Hogwarts Express. But judging from the way the door was buckling, he guessed it wouldn't be long before it caved in completely and whoever was so very eager to get in after the unlikely duo would be making an appearance. Now he may not have been in this time very long, but he was by no means prepared to let some group of pipsqueaks blow his cover. 

And so, just as the door broke into splinters and the four door-hammerers burst in, he cast a very strong veiling charm, filling the entire carriage with a dense, spreading fog that blocked everything from view. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

The fog only served to completely disorientate everyone and at the start, they made a concerted effort to stick close to their allies but before long they were all separated by some curse or another and then what had been a two sided duel became an all out, every man and woman for themselves, type brawl. 

Curses, hexes and expletives from the victims flew through the air with abandon and even Harry was hard pressed to avoid them all, and that was with his slayer senses telling him where people were positioned. 

Veda hissed furiously from his position in Harry's arms, as Harry cast hex after hex. Who the hell were these people? he wondered. They couldn't be students, there was more upper-level, auror-orientated, Death Eater favourites and dark curses being dished out than any student could possibly know.

Which meant that they were fair game for Harry to retaliate in turn. Redoubling his efforts, he refrained from casting any lethal or hurtful hexes in case any students were drawn to investigate the mêlée and started practicing his aim at the less powerful, more annoying jinxes and hexes that when combined would leave him able to identify the cursed at a distance.

After all, tentacles were kind of hard to disguise. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

__

There are 3 kinds of people: those who make things happen, those who watch things happen, and those of us who wonder WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED? 

In the neighbouring carriages, the ruckus soon attracted the attention of numerous students. Alarmed by what they saw, the Head Boy and Girl were called to investigate. 

As to what they saw… well, quite frankly, they were horrified. 

The carriage was rocking on the tracks, walls sometimes bulging under the influence of various curses, smoke was pouring out of the shattered glass of the windows and the brightly coloured lights of a high scale duel lit up the entire train. Shouts and yelling could be heard all the way on the other end of the train, some eerily distorted under the effects of a hex and it frightened the first years beyond belief. 

Someone howled with pain and a flash of black robes were vaguely seen through the broken window of the door before the fog swallowed the person again. 

Head Girl Venetia Williams nearly had a heart attack and the pallor of her face would have matched Nearly Headless Nick's. "Merlin's beard!" she screamed, "THERE'S DEATH EATERS ON THE TRAIN!" Completely losing her head, she took off running. 

Left behind by his colleague, the Head Boy, Amulius Brockwood nearly fainted. "D-Death E-Eaters?" he stuttered. "H-here?! We're doomed!"

Venetia's scream had spread throughout the entire train, causing the students to descend into panic and mass hysteria. A few of the braver students tried to get in the door but that was a mistake.

A big mistake.

The unnatural fog gushed out like a river torrent, flooding through every open crevice of the train, swamping it in a magical chokehold and effectively blinding the hysterical students. Through the open door, curses went astray and hit those for whom they had never been intended. 

And the students, their minds filled with images of attacking hordes of Death Eaters, ready and willing to kill them, inadvertently activated their 'flight or fight' reflex. Some cowered, trying to hide, some didn't understand what was going on and so were doomed to remain in the crossfire and some, determined not to die, fought back…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Venetia ran through the train in a state of terror, bursting into the driver's carriage at the head of the train. "Stop the train!" she gasped, "And call the teachers! We're under attack! There's _Death Eaters _on the train!" she explained in a rush before fainting. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Minerva McGonagall never ran. She was always the picture of staid composure. Always. Everyone who knew her was convinced of that and were certain that nothing could cause her to lose it.

Today, Minerva ran through the halls of Hogwarts, heart pounding, hair in a mess after escaping her tight bun, hat after falling off and her usually pristine green robes in a flutter around her. 

Barely slowing down as she reached the gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office, uncaring that she was late for the assembled staff meeting, she gasped out the password, "Sherbet suckers," and ran up the moving stairs at full tilt. 

Slamming into the room, she found everyone staring at her in shock. The headmaster included and everyone knew how hard it was to surprise the great Albus Dumbledore. "Albus!" she panted, "It's a disaster! We must help them!"

Of course that choked explanation didn't really clarify things for anyone. Professor Wells humphed her disapproval of Minerva's delivery and Professor Sardar studied her as if she were some sort of fascinating specimen. 

"What has you in such a state Minerva," Albus asked, gently prodding her. 

She looked at him in shock, "Haven't you heard? Death Eaters have taken the Hogwarts Express!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Barty Crouch Sr stared at his head auror in disbelief. "They _what_?" he shouted. 

"They have targeted the Hogwarts train sir," auror Kendelworth repeated. 

Thousands of possible scenarios ran through Crouch's head. The press would have a field day if they found out about this latest attack and the Minister would have his guts for garters. But worst of all, it would completely blow his chances of becoming Minister of Magic! Well, he'd show them. Oh he'd show them all right…

If they wanted to see how far they could push the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, they'd see how far he'd go. They'd rue the day they tried to scupper his election chances. 

"Prepare a full assault team," he ordered, "We must retake that train at any cost."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Harry thanked Merlin for his enhanced vision, he could somewhat see through the fog and it had enabled him to dodge and nullify numerous spells. Spotting a flash of red out of the corner of his eyes, he whirled to face it and for a moment he saw a slim figure in the fog before they were gone and they were just another nameless person cursing the living daylights out of everybody. 

Moving closer to them as his curiosity was peaked, he saw two figures quite near each other. And they both seemed strangely familiar… 

Straining his vision and his senses and taking a good look at the two, he recognised them as Lily and… Snape? That was a weird pairing. Now that he knew what to look for and he ignored the spells flying overhead his slayer senses clearly told him there was a werewolf on the other side of the room. 

And as far as he knew there was only one werewolf to ever attend Hogwarts; Remus Lupin. Which meant the other Marauders had to be part of this group. 

Which put him in a spot of bother.

If this was going to be a fight involving his father, mother, godfather, Potions professor and DADA professor, exactly how could he get caught up in it without causing even more problems? 

Simple. He couldn't. 

Which meant he had to abandon ship so to speak. 

Holding Veda near to his chest, he started to creep towards the broken window but he came to a sudden stop as he picked up on something that could never end good… 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

The train had come to a screeching halt by the time the teachers arrived. The aurors were apparating in as well, all converging on the train that was being torn apart from the inside. 

Albus Dumbledore surveyed the scene in annoyance. It just had to happen now didn't it? Dear old Tom just had to inconvenience him at the worst possible moments. He had been just about to thrash ol' Pentheus in a chess game. 

And finally collect the ten galleons that the wizard had refused to pay him the last time he lost. 

Brandishing his wand, he waded into the battleground, determined to exercise his anger on some nice little Death Munchers. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Harry had spent enough time in auror custody to recognise the sounds of an impending raid. Damn, but did this mean trouble! Well, he wasn't getting caught again. No way! No how! Not a chance! He'd had enough of auror 'hospitality' to last him a lifetime. Or ten.

He thought briefly of warning his parents but decided he couldn't risk it. If Lily and James had gone on to be Head Boy and Girl then obviously they wouldn't be expelled and he knew the others had all graduated as well so he didn't really feel guilty. 

They obviously didn't know he was here and so there would be nobody to implicate him and get him into trouble in this place where he simply couldn't afford to attract mischief and mayhem like the little trouble magnet he usually was. 

Tightening his hold on Veda and putting his shrunken things in his pocket, he leaped for the window…

And slammed into a barrier of some sort, sending him sliding quite painfully to the floor.

Double damn…

He _hated_ aurors. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Quickly locating the carriage where the highest level of magic was being emitted, the aurors and Hogwarts teachers flanked it and moved into position for an attack. Auror Kendelworth counted down and gave the signal and on three, they all burst into the carriage, wands aloft, curses on their lips and no mercy at all in their thoughts. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

When more people flooded into the carriage with them, beginning to open fire on them, the Marauders, Lily and Severus couldn't even begin to see what they had just let themselves in for. And so in utter ignorance of the situation, they started cursing back and so duel number one thousand and one of that day begun. 

Five underage wizards and one underage witch against an auror assault team and the Hogwarts staff…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

The second the first auror fuelled curse flew, Harry backed away from the window and setting Veda on the ground, morphed into his cat animagus form. 

Veda looked at him strangely before batting him with his long tail. Harry growled low in his throat and gave him the kitty version of a death glare. Of course Veda was bigger than him so it didn't really work very well as far as intimidation went. His short paws stealthily made their way across the carriage, Veda following him and dodging the heavy feet that stomped through, beside and around the train, he stepped out into fresh air. 

Formulating a plan to allay any suspicion, he re-entered the portion of the train where the other students were and changing back into his human form, he clutched Veda to him and tried to paste an appropriately frightened expression on his face while he tried not to laugh as he heard the rumours that had taken hold of the train and started off this whole mess.

Death Eaters on the train! He scoffed, really they couldn't have been _that_ bad…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

It didn't take long before the aurors managed to overwhelm their quarry and cries of surrender came from the Death Eater scum. Kendelworth's chest puffed up with pride, oh he was sure to get a raise for this one. 

The culprits, a smaller number than expected, but then some could have apparated away, were dumped in front of him, trussed up and held at wand point. And taking a good look at them, he felt his breath leave his body with an audible whoosh. 

If the lad with the messy black hair and admirable glare wasn't Henry Potter's son then he was the Queen of England. Looking at the others with a growing sense of dread, he recognised the Black family signet ring on another boy and a Snape crest was on a chain on another boy. The only girl in the group, wearing a rather melted and half-destroyed prefect's badge was lecturing his aurors on following proper protocol and threatening to sue them. 

By Merlin, they weren't Death Eaters! They were _students_!

He was dead. 

He could faintly hear the Snape boy harassing one of his men, "I assure you that I am very much alive, and that your stupidity is none of my concern…"

Never mind dead, his ghost was going to be dead. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Kendelworth, once he'd gotten over his shock had wanted to haul them in to auror headquarters anyway. Professor McGonagall somehow managed to bully him into letting them go free and as he heard her verbally rip them to shreds as she prepared to take them back to Hogwarts and to the headmaster, who had already returned to deal with the massive amount of paperwork this incident would require. He smirked in triumph. Maybe McGonagall could flay them worse than he ever could…

The other professors had gathered and calmed the rest of the students, reassuring them and filling them in on the true cause of the situation. After repairing all the damage that had occurred, the Hogwarts Express got underway again and a portkey was prepared for the six miscreants that had caused an unbelievable political incident. 

Six reluctant hands and one stern one touched the cauldron cake wrapper and they disappeared in an instant. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

Back on the re-started train, Harry speculated on his first impressions of his parents. It had been one hell of a first day, that much was certain. Who'd have thought they could duel so well? Though Snape was a new puzzle now. During his time as kitty-Harry he'd tried scanning Snape's aura once more and the strange crimson hue he possessed in Harry's time, he did not have in this one. 

And since he'd never found out what the crimson colour had meant anyway, it was doubly frustrating to have yet another piece to add to a never-ending puzzle. 

And his mother… wow! No one had ever told him much about her and now he'd seen her for himself. And he could definitely say that all the tales about redhead's tempers were true. But her friendship with Snape was a new one, why had no one ever told him? And if the man had been friends with his mother, then why the hell had he hated Harry so very much? It couldn't be all to do with James.

He wondered what the fight had been about and no doubt, he would find out eventually. But for now he had something else to worry about; the Sorting. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

__

'Our equal crimes shall equal fortune give.'  
- John Dryden

The small group arrived in the headmaster's office to find Dumbledore looking very grave and disappointed. McGonagall stepped to the side and sat down in a nearby chair, leaving the six students lined up in front of his desk like prisoners in front of a firing squad. 

Albus Dumbledore took one look at the two groups facing off and glaring at each other and resisted the urge to bang his head against the table. It was history repeating itself; he still remembered the infamous feud between their fathers when they had attended the school. The next generation was here and hated each other already, except this time a muggleborn and a werewolf ad been added to their number. The fact that Professors Sardar and McGonagall, house heads of Slytherin and Gryffindor respectively were glaring at each other across the room was not helping matters. And then there was Flitwick, determined to stick up for the lone Ravenclaw in the group of delinquents. 

Dumbledore sat behind his desk, not saying a word, just staring at the six children standing in front of him. Remus, Peter and Lily at least looked somewhat ashamed, eyes downcast but James, Sirius and Severus almost seemed amused, as if they weren't in serious trouble. 

The headmaster frowned at her before speaking, "I am very disappointed in you, I expected better from students of your calibre. Having a Wizard's Duel is a serious matter. What if one of you had seriously harmed the other? I had thought that you had gotten over your rivalry and put aside past differences in light of the dark times we are in and Voldemort's rise."

Most of their eyes became hard as ice and their expressions frosted over at the mere mention of the infamous Dark Lord. "Not only did you endanger each other, you caused a mass panic on the train, at the ministry and amongst the Hogwarts staff, all of whom believed that it was Death Eaters. Have you any idea of the trouble you have caused?! All over some paltry childish quarrel! This is unacceptable behaviour for Hogwarts students! Completely unacceptable! As school has technically 

not started yet, I can not take points from your houses. You will each serve detention for two months, with who is yet to be determined. I will leave you off with a warning this time but if another incident like this occurs I will not be so lenient, extenuating circumstances or no. Do not make me expel you," Dumbledore said coldly. 

He got nods of acceptance from all six and he surveyed them with a stony expression, "Get down to the Great Hall and behave yourselves. The rest of the student body will arrive shortly and if I am any judge of people, you will not get a kind reception. Go!" 

They left the office, along with Minerva, Filius and Medea and in the solitude of his office, Dumbledore let his grandfatherly mask drop and he hurled his glass paperweight against the wall, enjoying the satisfying smash of glass as it broke. How dare they?! 

Did they know what trouble they had caused him? Pentheus wouldn't want to know why he couldn't control his students, the aurors would want to know why they were alerted, he'd have mass howlers from furious parents and most likely he'd have Henry Potter, Augustus Snape and half the Black family in his office by morning, all ready to rip him to shreds for sullying their precious sons. He'd be so buried in paperwork, he wouldn't be able to surface for days. And for what? The whims of six teenagers? 

Still it could be salvaged. It was an opportunity. The war needed new blood, it always needed new blood. Too few had the power to pose any threat at all and those that did were dying. He'd been looking for a pawn to play in the world-sized game of chess he and Tom Riddle had engaged in. and now he just might have found one. 

He knew they were powerful, they had just proved it. Maybe he had found the tools to defeat Voldemort after all… 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

The Hogwarts Express arrived in Hogsmeade half an hour after the portkey had activated. Hundreds of frazzled, angry and humiliated students streamed off the train, all cursing six names under their breath. They were not happy campers and Dumbledore had only told them what had really happened so that they would take it upon themselves to punish those involved. Something he'd so often done to Harry. He _really_ wasn't fond of lynch mobs.

He took a moment to admire the thestrals that pranced quietly in front of the carriages they were strapped to, knowing that few, if any, students could see what he was seeing. He hopped into the nearest carriage, ending up with a couple of giggling third year girls and had to endure high-pitched squeals, giggles, incessantly annoying stares and an endless amount of questions. 

It was a _long_ ride to the castle.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

The Great Hall was as grand as ever, Harry thought, as he watched the students stream in and take up residence at their house tables, throwing nasty glares at the six sixth years who had been there waiting for them for the last hour. 

He leaned against the far wall, in a shadowed corner until McGonagall brought in the first years. He had to refrain from gaping. There was a good sixty or seventy first years starting, nearly triple the number of Harry's year when he had started. And this was what was left from those who had decided to send their children to foreign schools, who were far away from Voldemort's influence.

Just how many families had Voldemort and the Ministry obliterated? 

Veda shifted in his arms, large eyes staring unblinkingly at a woman at the far right of the head table. Veda was hissing furiously at her - the kneazle's ultimate sign of untrustworthiness. Harry made a mental note to keep an eye on her. But before he could delve too much into conspiracy theories, he heard himself being announced.

"Now this year we have a student from the Americas starting his sixth year at Hogwarts." Dumbledore said. 

McGonagall called his name and told him to put on the hat. And so he did for the fourth time… the fourth time! Why that little monster of a hat! It had known before the fact and he had wondered why it had said that in the headmaster's office. And to think he'd thought it was gone senile! He growled as he pondered why the hat hadn't bothered to tell him. 

//_Now, now… there's no need to slander me Mr Potter _// the hat said inside his head. //_No need at all. Oooh, you are most interesting, very very interesting… _//

"Just get on with it already!" Harry muttered. 

// _Don't be hasty. Just because you have a blatant disregard for rules doesn't mean I don't have to follow them. But first, just let me get things straight. You are from the future, a Gryffindor who is not a Gryffindor and a Slytherin who was never a Slytherin. Must say that's a bit of a puzzle. Never happened before that one. But the question now Mr Potter is to decide where to put you and hopefully you'll decide not to argue with my choice this time. _// 

That would be assuming I had a choice, Harry griped mentally.

// _Great things you have done and not done and much do you have left to do… _// 

Are you taking lessons from Trelawney on how _not_ to make sense? Harry asked.

// _There's no need to be insulting_. // the hat huffed, // _Talent you have, but will you live to use it? There's an intelligent mind hiding in there. And you do like to plot? Still have you ever considered the title 'tragic hero'? You know, like those ones in all the romance novels? The Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs would love it! But no matter, you can be what you like. I'll let you in on a little secret…. Someone called in a long overdue favour and you shall be judged by your parents. And so in that case, the choice must be… _// 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*

__

OC character list.

__

Pentheus Binsted - British Minister of Magic. 

__

Amulius Brockwood - Head Boy. Ravenclaw. 

__

Kendelworth - Head auror. 

__

Penelope Parkinson - Pansy Parkinkson's aunt in 2003. Slytherin 6th year. 

__

Professor Ruppe - Potions Master at Hogwarts. 

__

Professor Medea Sardar - teacher at Hogwarts. Head of Slytherin house. 

__

Veda - Harry's kneazle.

__

Professor Wells - teacher at Hogwarts. 

__

Venetia Williams - Head Girl. Hufflepuff. 

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A/N: If you feel the desire to leave any reviews, the House Elves will be collecting them. Please click on the blue button below to submit your review to Dobby and his crew…

Also I have a new Harry Potter fic in the works, one that I fully plan on following through with, and have started writing with plans to post in the new year. One problem; I can't go forward much until I decide on pairings so if I leave you with a quick summary of the fic, could you let me know what pairings you'd be interested in if you wanted to read it? Thanks in advance.

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Summary of the fic entitled 'Fallen': Harry's 6th yr gets off to a rocky start. DE attacks, a scheming Dark Lord, corrupt Ministry & his very own murder trial. Not to mention classes, OWL results, Dursleys, looming prophecies, teenage angst, overprotective godfathers, house arrests & Order secrets. Is Sirius really dead? Is the prophecy complete? How far will Minister Fudge go to protect his reputation and just how much can public opinion be swayed? Can one boy stand against a mass of aurors and Death Eaters? What secret does Trelawney harbour? What are the repercussions of the incident in the Department of Mysteries? What has Tom Riddle got to do with anything? And just how far will Voldemort go to get rid of the 'Potter problem'? 

Please let me know what you think.

Asha Dreamweaver. 


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